Finding Me
by Sunrays and Saturdays
Summary: Gil and Sara's relationship begins to grow, a series of events push them closer together despite Gil's reluctance - a relationship begins to grow but it's not all smooth. 100 chaps up. FINISHED(Warning, goes OOC)
1. Chapter 1: Sinking Heart

**Chapter 1**

**Sinking Heart**

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Authors Note: This chapter was the first CSI fanfiction I wrote - it used to be a stand alone story kind of but I've took the sequels and mishmashed it together into an actual 'chapter story'. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the other stories - I've lost their names when I deleted the stories to make room for the new chapter story, but you know who you are :)

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Gil Grissom had been sitting in his car for some moments – without having even started the engine yet. It wasn't that he didn't have anywhere to go – far from it. He'd finished work ten minutes ago, and by now he should have been on his way home to get some well deserved rest after a double shift.

Before leaving, he'd grabbed the files and some crime scene photos from the case he'd spent his entire shift working on – it still remained unsolved. When these kind of situations arose, he would take his work home with him. Sometimes, without the chaos of his workplace around him, he could find it easier to think.

Sometimes, he'd place the case file upon the passenger seat, and drive straight home, but there were those occasions when he opened the folder as soon as he got into the car and began to go over them quickly.

He'd realised once that it made sense, to look over them first before he left the parking lot – that way if he should notice anything that gave new perspective on the case, he could quickly go back into the building and immediately start to work on it again.

So here he was, sitting in the driving seat in a quiet car at 1.11am precisely. Looking over photos he'd studied – for what felt like – fifty times today. Nothing was standing out. Nothing was clicking in his mind, and he felt himself give in to the frustration, and he shut the folder of photos abruptly.

He reached up to turn off the small overhead light on the roof of his car, the interior fell into darkness, save a few slithers of light from a streetlamp not far away in the parking lot. With this growing frustration with the case, he decided to hesitate before starting the engine. He didn't want to be out on the road with this anger he felt welling up inside of himself – the frustration that he'd spent fourteen hours straight on a case without any leads at all made him feel terribly helpless, and that was one of the feelings he loathed most of all.

Just as he'd put his hand on the key in the ignition, ready to turn to start the car, his gaze absently swayed towards the front doors of the building, and he saw his co-worker, Sara Sidle stepping outside, her jacket pulled around her.

It was raining, heavily, and she had a hood pulled up over her brown hair, she was hugging herself against the rain. She looked around, and seemed to miss his presence in his car entirely. She went down the steps, turned left, and began to head down the street.

Gil felt his heart sinking low in his chest, until it felt as if it might be somewhere in the pit of his stomach – something he knew was physiologically impossible.

He found it hard to breathe for a few moments, as he watched Sara Sidle disappearing into the curtain of rain. There had been an undeniable tension between him and Sara for months, and every day it had begun to grow steadily worse.

There were things he wanted to say, but the words stuck fast in his throat as if he were choking on them. When they spoke of work to each other, there was no problem, the words would flow from his mouth like water, ever constant until there was nothing more to say on the matter. He could spiel out countless pearls of wisdom, and never stumble on a word.

But when he was near her, it was different. Being emotional and personal with anyone wasn't in his nature. He wasn't a people person, and he was painfully diffident when anyone tried to get him to open up to them. Sara had tried numerous times, and there had been times when she had tried that he'd wished he could suddenly just say everything he felt.

It was no good. The words were there, caught in his throat again.

He asked himself dismally what could he do? What SHOULD he do? Should he tell face to face what was really in his head – in his heart?

The fact was that there were two loves in Gil Grissom's life. One was Sara Sidle, beautiful, and emotional, always there, always by his left side wherever he went. And then there was his other love, the love he'd spent all his life cultivating - his work.

In Gil's eyes, choosing one of these loves meant unfortunately forfeiting the other. He certainly couldn't have both.

He had weighed the pros and cons so many times. He knew that taking a chance on Sara might compromise his career, and the respect that everyone had for him. If he was to be dating Sara, it wouldn't be long before everyone in the building knew.

Gil knew that the quiet little rumours would start, he'd heard rumours about himself before when no one had known he was listening. Gil Grissom with any woman would be big news, as he was the quiet type who spent more time working on solving murders than he did on his own social life. He could imagine the comments - the sneering insults about his relationship with someone under his supervision. It would be humiliating.

He could almost imagine hearing Greg Sanders sharing secrets with Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown in the lab during a break, Greg would be prattling on about how Sara's 'banging the boss', and how bad it looked, since she was so eager for promotion.

Worst of all, he could picture how much Sara would distract him from his work. Having a relationship took a lot of sacrifice, time and energy – none of the things he felt he could give to both work and Sara at the same time.

_Is that the real problem though_? He asked himself sourly in thought, he tapped his fingers absently off the dashboard. He supposed now that he'd brought the question up himself, he had to confess to himself that there was one more underlying worry.

Sara might have interest in him – it definitely showed, and he was quite aware of the signs however much he tried to deny it – but how long would it take before she went looking elsewhere when she realised he wasn't what she'd hoped for? He was undeniably older than her. Being well over a decade older may as well have been a hundred years – he was concerned the bridge between that age gap might be incredibly shaky, and she'd more likely find a suitable soul mate closer to her own age.

Gil wasn't sure he could go through any sacrifice just to have his heart broken by someone who wasn't quite sure what she wanted, and he liked to think that Sara perhaps didn't. This way, it made him feel ever so less guilty of having turned her down when she'd asked him out for dinner. He liked to pretend to himself this was some silly crush – something much a school girl might have for her teacher.

The way he looked at it was, he could give up Sara, and she would move on and find another man, someone more deserving. If he sacrificed his work for her to have a relationship with her, there was no telling if he could ever gain back the respect, and the momentum which he carried it out with.

Gil started up the car, and pulled out of the parking lot. He wanted to head down the opposite street but found himself following Sara's path. _For now, I need to set aside what I'm feeling_…_No one should have to walk in this rain_.

He located her quickly, she was walking with her head down to shelter her face from the cold rain that was fiercely pelting down.

Gil was surprised she hadn't taken her car today, but then the whole day had been beautiful, sunny, and warm. She'd probably took the walk for exercise, to bask in the sun whilst walking to work. Either that, or – which was not unusual for Sara – the night before she'd had one too many beers that would put her over the limit for driving – after having been pulled over and taken in for drinking and driving once before, she had most likely learned her lesson.

Whatever the reason for her walking was, she was still caught in the rain, and Gil felt he had an obligation somewhat to make her journey home slightly easier.

The traffic was busy on the street, and Sara didn't even see Gil's car even when it was just a little ahead of her. Gil rolled down his window, and leaned out, "hey," he called to her. "Sara!"

Sara raised her head to see his car several feet away, hugging herself against the cold rain, she began to walk over, slowly, almost as if she thought she were walking to her doom rather than her boss's car.

Gil leaned out a little more, the rain splattering him and his glasses. "Get in, I'll give you a lift."

"That's okay. I'd rather walk, I like the rain," Sara refused politely.

"It's freezing, and it's a ten minute walk to your apartment," Gil replied.

Sara shrugged nonchalantly, and walked around the car, dodging traffic, to get to the passengers side as Gil moved the case files from the passenger seat to the back seat.

He opened the door for her from the inside – not out of courtesy but because Catherine had broken the door a month earlier, slamming it when she disagreed with him about a certain case he'd assigned her to.

The door swung open. Sara climbed in, shivering, she shut the door and it gave a monotone thud.

Gil turned the heat on in the car, while Sara buckled up, then he started the engine, and in silence he drove.

Now that she was there again, his heart was in that familiar place, low in his chest, sinking once again.

_Why must my heart sink every time I'm near her_? He pondered.

Sara reached over and turned on the radio, and began to tamper with the tuning buttons, "I hate silence," she mumbled with a nervous smile, she found a station she was happy with, "this is good."

"That's not my classical station," he said, momentarily unhappy that she'd changed the station without asking first. She'd declared it, but not asked.

"No, it's more like soft rock," Sara smirked a little, she hummed along to the song, looking out of the side window, she drummed her hands on her knees.

Actually, Gil had to admit to himself the music wasn't so bad. It certainly wasn't as offensive to the ears as the music Greg liked to listen to in the lab. Gil struggled to find anything else to say, he just listened to the smooth sound of her humming, and the drone of the engine. "So…what'd you think about this Rzezynik case?" he asked, referring to the case Sara and Warrick were working on at the moment.

"I'm stumped and it hurts my head to even start thinking about it," Sara responded indifferently, she turned and looked at him, "you're stumped on your case too?"

"Spent the best part of a double shift working on this and not a single lead," Gil grumbled.

"Tomorrow you'll have some new perspective on it," Sara seemed confident of this. She continued to drum her knees, oblivious to the awkwardness Gil felt every time she was in his presence.

The traffic had been piling up on the street, and wasn't moving, Gil hated getting caught in traffic. Especially since getting caught in traffic meant being stuck in the car with Sara longer than he'd anticipated when he'd offered her a ride in the first place. Were they obligated now to make small talk? He didn't know.

Sara took her hood down finally, and shook her shoulder length brown hair loose, "wait a minute…" she paused, then turned to him, "you're finished your shift – you finished your shift before I did…" she was looking at him with a quizzical eye. What were you doing coming down this street…"

"I saw you heading off this way from work and decided to catch up. No one should have to walk in weather like this," he wished this traffic would get moving. He didn't like where this conversation might head. Would Sara realise he had been watching her, sitting pondering for moments what he should do?

He didn't want her to ask anymore, but Sara, being brilliant, inquisitive Sara, was bound to ask the question that would arise in her mind. "But I left work ten minutes ago…how'd it take you that long to catch up?"

"Car wouldn't start," he lied.

"Oh," Sara nodded, "she's workin' great now."

"Indeed," Gil responded, feeling the heat rising in his neck. The traffic began to move, and Gil felt like sighing in relief, but he contained it.

He felt his cheeks flushing, and he was suddenly very aware that she was studying him. He hated being scrutinised, especially by her, because he was afraid that one day, she might just see through him. "Do I have something on my face…?" he asked, hoping that he did, that this was her point of fascination.

"Rain water," she responded, and reached out to wipe it from his face.

Her touch sent electric shivers across his cheek and through every single nerve ending in his body. He tried to hide it, but he flinched slightly.

"Sorry…electric shock, probably from the carpet of this car…" Sara looked down at the foot-space curiously.

"Is **that** what it was?" Gil asked, half in disappointment, half in relief, he wasn't sure how he would have reacted if it hadn't been.

"What did you think it was?" Sara raised a finely plucked eyebrow.

"Lightning," he mused.

"I heard a rumble of thunder half an hour ago," Sara confessed.

"I heard that too," Gil turned down Sara's street, and soon, he found himself driving through the double gates, turning a corner and pulling into the residential parking lot at the back of her apartment building several moments later.

He parked - not because he intended to get out, but because there was one free parking space close to the door into the apartment. Nothing was meant by this gesture other than thinking about trying to reduce the soaking Sara would receive on her way inside.

Glad finally that her company would be out of his car, he began to feel slightly less apprehensive. This tension had kept building up further and further until he couldn't take it anymore, the sooner she got out, the better he'd feel.

"Thanks…" Sara unclasped her seatbelt, and reached for the door handle, she tried to open it. "It's jammed…"

"I've been meaning to get that fixed. Just have to pull it really hard from a certain angle…" he assured. "It should open."

She tried with all her might to get the door open, but it refused to budge.

"Look, it's easy," Gil unclasped his own belt, he switched off the engine, and leaned over her to put his hand on the latch, their faces were close, he felt her hair brush against his cheek as he pulled the latch, and the door swung open with a soft creak. He moved back slightly, their faces inches apart, and her eyes were finding his. He looked away, "there," he mumbled.

Sara forced a smile, "you've done this before," she said, her soft grainy voice had the lilt of a flirt almost hidden away beneath it.

It was Gil's turn to force a smile, although it was a nervous smile, "Of course I have, it's my car," he sat straight in his seat again.

Sara recoiled out of the car slowly, Gil felt unable to move. He looked at her, she leaned in the car, "thanks again for the ride," she said softly.

"No problem," Gil nodded, "I'll uh…see you at work."

"Do you want to come up?" Sara asked, "I mean, if you want to…I got nothin' planned tonight except washin' my hair and crackin' open a couple of beers," she added almost dolefully. "We could look over your case files, maybe I could help?" she asked.

Gil paused, giving it some serious thought. It wasn't so much the invitation that made the anxiety inside swirl like a rollercoaster riding in his stomach – it was the thought of what might happen if he did go up to her apartment.

"Maybe some other time," he tried to remain upbeat and friendly, he couldn't help but look rather helpless and hopeless.

"Sure…"

"Bye, Sara," Gil forced another smile, a more confident smile this time, and he watched her close the door, her image became distorted by the rain running down the passenger side window.

He went to turn on the engine, it sputtered and seemed to die out. He tried again, same response. _Is_ _this punishment for lying to her about my car not starting_? He pondered bemusedly.

Sara had been almost in the door when she'd heard it, and he saw her turn back and jog over to his car, she tapped on the window, and Gil reached over and rolled it down, "car won't start?" Sara asked.

"Temperamental," he said. "Battery probably died out."

"I think I have jump wires in my car…" she glanced up towards the sky, lightning flickered amongst dark clouds overhead, the rain seemed to pelt down even harder.

It was just then all the lights went out all around them. Plunged into an abyss of darkness, so thick they could not even make out each others silhouettes. The whole world seemed to fall silent, traffic in the nearby streets seemed to have stopped had stopped, the whirr of machinery in the distance even fell silent. It was eerie.

"Lightning must have hit a power line," Sara said.

_Typical_, Gil thought. _Now what am I supposed to do_? He fumbled in the dark for the glove compartment, and finally found a spare flashlight he'd been keeping there for emergencies. He switched it on and pointed it at Sara, her face was white against the eerie pitch black.

"Can't drive in this," Sara pointed out, "traffic will be chaos."

Gil gave a sigh of defeat, "they'll fix it soon, I can wait."

"You might as well come up," Sara gestured to her building, "you could wait hours before the power comes back on."

Gil rolled up the window, took his keys out of the ignition, climbed out – making sure to pick up his case files in the process. He closed the door, made sure all the doors were secure, and then he followed Sara Sidle into her apartment building.

The building was warm, but inside it was just as black as it was outside. He let the flashlight dance across the hallways, and up the stairwells, until they were finally on Sara's floor. Sara fumbled in her pocket for the key, and finally located it. She unlocked the door, and slid inside, she gestured for Gil to follow.

Gil stepped inside, shining the flashlight so he could look around.

Sara took the flashlight from him, "let me borrow this…" she said, without really asking, and she disappeared off into the darkness with his flashlight.

Gil walked, bumping into the counter from the kitchenette, it hit him in the midriff and he winced, "ow."

"Watch the counters!" Sara called out, she disappeared into another room, Gil guessed was perhaps the bedroom.

He stood there, pressed against the counter, he dropped the case file on top of it, and then remained near the counter, because it was the only solid thing he knew was there and could use as a point of reference to walk around should he need to.

Sara returned a moment later, still holding his flashlight, the other arm full of assorted pillar candles, short and long, a bag of small tea lights dangling from her fingers. "These should do until the power comes back on," she said, "there's some matches in that cupboard there…" she gestured to the cupboard and reached over to hand him the flashlight.

His fingers brushed against hers, the same exciting tingles rushed through him and made him shiver, he was glad it was dark enough to hide the small tremble he gave.

He located the box of matches in the overhead cupboard, and he propped the flashlight on the counter, freeing his hands. He lit a match, and the close proximity was bathed in a warm orange glow.

He lit candles, one by one. Sara picked them up in pairs, positioning them in various areas, three on the window sill, two on top of the TV, three on the desk, one on top of the bookcase. Two stubby pillar candles were placed on the square coffee table.

Gil surveyed the apartment bathed in the candlelight whilst he removed his rain splattered jacket. He hated it. He hated the fact it was so cosy, so…romantic…and he was alone in this apartment with her, when the power was out. His car wouldn't start, and there was nowhere to go. He felt trapped, and powerless – a feeling he detested.

"Most of these candles are decorative," she shrugged as she placed a large three wick pillar candle on a little end table beside her sofa, "I used to think it was a waste of money spending so much on them, I guess they finally have a purpose."

"Everything in life does, I think," Gil said thoughtfully, he watched the flame of a nearby tea light flicker, making peculiar shadows dance across the nearby wall.

Sara muttered something about hoping the power would come on soon, something related to the food she had in her refrigerator. Gil wasn't listening, he was too busy wondering how he was going to remain calm and not let this situation get to him.

Sara sat on the edge of the couch, and looked up at him. He was still behind the counter of the kitchenette, "get it out."

"Huh?" Gil asked, confused, he wasn't sure what she had in mind when she'd asked this, and he spent several seconds trying to decide if this was a direct approach to saying 'will you sleep with me'.

"Your case file…" Sara said, raising an eyebrow, "what did you think I meant?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," Gil shook his head at himself, he picked up the case file, walked over slowly, sat on the couch, making sure an ample space was separating them, and he opened the folder, he spread out photos, he handed her pieces of text.

For the next half hour they discussed the case, and he was in heaven. The soothing candlelight, the soft lull of her voice, it was relaxing. He could think more clearly now than he had been able to in his car. They discussed all the possible angles of the case, and soon he was beginning to see some new leads. However, there was nothing much he could do about them at the moment.

"I don't believe it," he said after a time, he had circled – with a red felt tip pen Sara had supplied him with – all the things he'd overlooked earlier when working on the case. "How could I have missed all this?" he was astonished. "I must be slipping."

"Preoccupied, more than likely," Sara consoled, "you're probably burned out…double shifts can be a killer…"

"You do it all the time," Gil pointed out, he gathered the photos and flicked through them, keeping his eyes on them, he didn't want to look at her by candlelight. It flattered her too much.

"I drink more coffee than you do," she beamed. She gave a stretch, and rolled her head a few times and Gil heard the audible cricks of her neck.

_She's uptight_, Gil thought, he looked at her from the corner of his eyes, she had her eyes closed, she was rubbing the back of her neck. His mind was onslaught with new concerns. Was she tired? Was he keeping her up? Maybe it'd be a good idea just to walk home in the dark with his little flash light than keep her from the rest she deserved.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, been bent over a desk most of the night going over statements and photos," Sara responded, she was wincing slightly, her neck was causing her pain. "It's boring work and it's literally a pain in the neck."

Gil wasn't sure what possessed him, "here…" he knelt on the couch, closing the space between them, he was ever so slightly behind her. Timidly, he put his hands on her neck and kneaded his fingers into her neck. He could feel the tension in her muscles, she seemed even more tense than he did.

Her slightly damp hair brushed against his bare fingers, he tried to ignore that, tried to ignore the scent of her rosehip shampoo. Gil tried to desperately ignore every little inch of himself that screamed out for him to stop denying himself the right to be with her, to tell her how he felt.

But his mind told him differently.

"Is it easing up?" he asked.

"Yeah," she responded after a moment, she sounded surprised. He wasn't sure if it was because he was rubbing her neck, or that she was surprised the pain was going away.

He took his hands away from her, and stood up, "I wonder how much longer this blackout can continue," he headed towards the window, and gazed out between the slats of the blinds. The streets were seemingly so abandoned, and at that moment it felt perhaps he and Sara were the only people alive on the planet – at least until the power came back on. He realised there was probably a world of crime going on out there due to the black out. Security alarms and surveillance cameras would cease to function. Thieves would have a field day.

Sara came up behind him, he hadn't heard her approach, she touched his back between his shoulder blades, and he was startled, he spun to face her.

"Don't do that. Greg does that enough," he frowned at her slightly, but found it hard to stay mad with her for long.

Sara suppressed a grin, "jumpy, are we?"

"No, just tired," he pressed the tips of his fingers into his forehead, "I've been up twenty four hours without sleep."

"Stay over," Sara shrugged, "sofa is comfortable enough to sleep on."

"Thanks, but I'm sure this black out is going to end any time now…I could probably walk," he gazed back to the window, lightning flashed and for a split second the whole room was lit in a blinding light. He turned back and looked at her, she looked exhausted, he was keeping her awake, he realised that. "I think I'll just go," he said, and he headed over to the table to pick up his case file.

"Grissom, you can't walk in this weather. Just stay. I'll go get you a blanket and a pillow, you'll make do just fine."

"I'd rather not impose any further," Gil responded, but before he had finished his sentence she had disappeared into her bedroom with one of the candles, and moment later she returned with a pillow and a dark red blanket, she dropped them on the couch.

"I'll sleep better knowing you aren't getting mugged out there in the utter pitch blackness trying to find your way home at 2.30 am," she stated after a moment, her caught his eyes with hers and held his gaze.

He thought about this, this was a possibility, he knew what blackouts could be like, and a Vegas blackout was sheer opportunity for any criminal. "Fine," he gave in. She'd left one of the windows open to let a tiny little bit of air in. The candles flickered, the light dancing across her wholesome features. "Thank you," he added, in a softer voice.

Sara smiled, "night."

She left him, sitting in a room of candlelight and loneliness. He sat on the couch, propped against the pillow and watched the candles, fascinated by the movement of each tiny flame. Twenty minutes passed, he finally pulled himself out of his reverie and put most of the candles out, leaving two lit for reference of light should he wake up and not be able to find his way around in the dark. He made sure they were in safe areas where they couldn't set fire to any of the furnishings or drapes, and he settled on the couch, kicked off his shoes, and he pulled the blanket half over himself.

The pillow smelled like her shampoo, and he felt a slightly uneasy how the scent of a woman's shampoo on a pillow he would be resting his head upon should make him apprehensive. _It makes you nervous because it makes you slightly closer to her, the fact that you even noticed it smells like her at all means something, _he thought dully.

He wasn't sure when he dropped off to sleep. All he knew was that it was sunrise when he awoke. The last candles had burned down to unrecognisable lumps of wax, and the sunrise with all it's pinks and oranges was seeping through the slats in the blinds. He pulled himself up, back aching reminding him of every year he'd spent bent over desks and mortuary slabs.

He moved to the window, have staggering in his bow legged walk. Looking outside he could see cars moving down the street, lights on behind shop windows. The power had been restored.

The door leading to Sara's bedroom hung ajar, and he paused for a moment before deciding to gaze in. It wasn't the curiosity of seeing her in her bed that made him open the door, it was that he wanted to check on her.

She was asleep, stretched out across the bed half wrapped in blankets, and clad in thick flannel pyjamas with cartoon penguins on the fabric. There were no blinds in the bedroom, and the drapes had been left open, so the full light of the sunrise spilled completely into her room and onto her, lighting her up its warm orange glow.

Gil felt his heart aching, and his breath catching in his throat. How much longer could he know her and still maintain his sanity. How much longer could he be near her and not want to be with her?

He knew right then how much of a mistake he'd made asking her to come to Las Vegas in the first place, and at the same time, he knew exactly how much bigger a mistake it was to have not taken his chances with her.

Five decades on Earth, and he'd never really lived. It had taken Sara Sidle four years to open his eyes and make him finally realise what he was missing out on and how much he wanted a piece of what he'd constantly denied himself.

He moved over and stood by the bed, petrified his presence might waken her, but all the same fascinated by watching her sleep.

She was so peaceful, almost angelic, not a single smear of lipstick or swipe of mascara, so perfect and natural.

He knew he had to leave, he had to fix his car, he had to make calls, he had work to do on the case he was currently on. It seemed so impolite, to quietly leave when she slept, especially without saying goodbye somehow.

Noting the small notebook and pencil near her phone on the bedside cabinet, he decided a small message would be best. He spent five minutes standing there, wondering what to write. There were many romantic, meaningful and poetic things he wanted to say, but none of them would fit on the paper, and one of them seemed appropriate.

Sara,

Thanks for the hospitality,

and the perspective on the case.

See you at work.

Grissom

It wasn't romantic, or meaningful, or even poetic, it said all it needed to and for the moment, that was good enough for him. He paused.

_Add something. Tell her something you really mean, something that will somehow validate you feel something for her_.

After another moment of consideration, he added;

PS. Power is back on.

Silently, he gathered his things, slipped on his shoes, and headed out, leaving Sara Sidle to her dreams, and leaving himself to his misery.


	2. Chapter 2: Night on the Town

**Chapter 2**

**Night on the Town**

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"We're going out for dinner." 

It was the first thing Catherine Willows said to Gil Grissom as he entered the break room with his empty coffee mug at 2.am that morning during his night shift. Catherine was flicking through a report and hadn't even raised those piercing blue eyes of hers to look at him. She'd put a lot of emphasis in the word 'we're' so Gil knew that meant something big.

Catherine was the only one in the break room, Gil had going over paperwork for a case while Sara Sidle, Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown were out on the field. He had separate things to deal with – half of which had nothing to do with investigating. For half of his shift, he had been going through his own mounds of paperwork in his office. He'd fallen behind with the employee evaluations again – and there were three requests for two week vacations he hadn't even begun to look at. And then there was Greg Sanders, who had filled in three request forms for chemicals required in the laboratory, and they'd been there on Gil's desk all week.

Gil stood, stumped for a moment, "define **we**," he said, he then walked over to the sink, rinsed out his coffee mug, then moved over to the perculator.

"We. Me, Sara, Nick, Warrick, Greg," Catherine finally raised her eyes and gazed at him, "**you**," she pointed at him. "Tonight."

"When was this arranged?"

"Months ago," Catherine answered nonchalantly, so completely indifferent to his response.

"I don't remember taking up an invite for dinner," Gil raised an eyebrow, he filled his cup with black coffee and took a sip of the bitter liquid.

"We never told you," Catherine closed her folder of paperwork, she stretched. "If we had told you in advance you'd have made sure you were working the night we were to go out," she pointed out. "You're not getting out of this."

"I'm busy tonight. I have a mound of paperwork to catch up with, I'm going to pull a double shift and try and get it done."

"No," Catherine said, "this is the first night in four years we've all had a night off together. We've all been tense with each other lately at work - we need to get to know each other outside of work – like when we used to go to breakfast. Only this time, we'll have a whole night."

"C'mon, Cath, I don't do good in social surroundings. I'm not a people person like you."

"I know that. But this will give you a little bit of practice. You can't hide behind your microscope forever," Catherine looked thoroughly pleased with herself. Grissom despised that smug expression on her face.

"Can't I pass just this once?" he asked sipping his coffee again, he glanced at his watch.

"Gil, don't be such a kill joy. Just make an appearance, and pretend to be social. Who knows – you might even enjoy yourself."

"Hey…"

Catherine and Gil turned to the door, Greg was leaning in around the threshold of the door, a sheet of paper in his hand.

"I've filled out a request form for—" Greg began. Gil cut him off before he had the chance to finish.

"Yes, yes, alright, I'll order the stuff…" Gil assured. That made four request forms now from Greg. Unusually enough only one form was needed for everything, so Gil suspected that Greg was deliberately handing in forms to get his attention. "I don't need a dozen copies of the form piling on my desk to know inventory is running low," he added with a sigh.

_I know JUST what I'm putting on HIS evaluation_, thought Gil sourly.

"Did you tell him?" Greg asked with an impish grin.

Catherine matched his grin, "oh yeah."

"And?"

"He doesn't wanna go," Catherine folded her arms over her stomach.

"Aw, c'mon, it'd be fun! We can play drinking games!" Greg said excitedly.

"Don't you have some work to do, Greg?" Gil asked pointedly.

"It can wait," Greg assured.

"Did I tell you I haven't filled out your employee evaluation yet?" Gil asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh…see you," Greg disappeared, through the window that looked out into the hallway Gil watched Greg through the slats in the open blinds. Greg tripped on his own foot and fell clumsily with a thud – then pulling himself up he limped off disappearing down the hall.

"Tell me why I still keep him around?"

"Comic relief?" Catherine joked, she got up, "seriously, though. He's right, you should come. It will be fun. Outside of work you can be the real Gil Grissom."

"This is the real Gil Grissom," Gil gestured to himself whilst giving her a curious glance.

"And that's exactly why you should come tonight," Catherine winked, "We're meeting at seven for drinks first at Frankenstein's Bar."

"Frankensteins?" Gil gaped.

"Greg's idea. Talk to him if you need directions," Catherine said before she left the break room.

When she was gone, Gil could do nothing but shake his head.

When Gil went home after his shift, he promised himself he was going to find a way to get out of having to go out for dinner with the rest of his colleagues. He knew he'd find it awkward, trying to find something to talk about other than work while the rest of them were sitting over their meals.

_They should be thankful I don't want to go_, he thought. _I'd only put a damper on their fun anyway. I'd start talking about work, and they'd just roll their eyes and ignore me. It's better that I don't go at all._

After a much needed sleep, and waking up feeling groggy and somewhat dreary, he stumbled to the kitchenette, yawning.

His answering machine light was blinking, he hit the play button and walked over to the fridge to get himself a bottle of Evian.

_You have 3 new messages._

_Message 1: Hey, it's Catherine, I take it you're still in bed. I'll call later. beeeeep_

_Message 2: Hey, it's Catherine – again. It's…five-thirty-five now. We're meeting at seven. beeeeep_

_Message 3: Me again, you'd better show up. I mean it. beeeeep_

Gil rolled his eyes and smiled. Catherine was some character, and although it was somewhat annoying, it was nice that she was intent on having him come along on their little night on the town.

The phone began to ring shrilly, and Gil, who was struggling with the cap of an Evian bottle, let it ring, he took a drink.

_"Hey, you've reached the phone of Gil Grissom, leave a message after the beep"_

_beeeeep_

_"Hey, it's Cath. Well, by now I know you have to be up, you never sleep in. So you're probably standing there listening to me and pretending not to be home because you think it's going to get you out of coming tonight…" _Catherine's voice had a hint of amusement hidden beneath it. _"It's six now, so I guess I'll catch up with you in about an hour at Frankenstein's. Oh, and just so you know, if you don't show up, we'll ALL be coming to your apartment to get you."_

He blinked. The thought of them all in his apartment made him uneasy. He strangely found himself beginning to reconsider. It wasn't so much that he wanted to go, but it was that he was concerned that the others might hound him at work the next day if he didn't turn up at all, or like Catherine had said, just show up on his doorstep, and who knows how long it'd take him to get them to leave.

_I'll turn up, maybe_, he thought as he sat sipping coffee at his kitchen counter. _I'll turn up for maybe twenty minutes, have a quick drink, and then tell them I have other things I need to do, _he decided. _That way, then I can always point out the fact that I at least showed up_.

He didn't know what kind of a place Frankenstein's sounded to be, but he was betting if it was somewhere Greg had chosen it would be full of young people with their strange fashions and odd hairstyles. He decided if he wore black, he might make it in and out alive without ever being noticed by the patrons, and so he dressed in black pants and a black shirt.

He used a phonebook to look up Frankenstein's Bar, and find its location. He left early, knowing he had to walk to get there, since, if he was going to have a drink – and it couldn't just be a soda because his colleagues would surely make fun of him for this – he was better not taking his car at all.

When he got to Frankenstein's Bar, he found out he'd been right about the people. Most of the patrons were either of the gothic or punk culture, they were all people ranging from their early twenties to thirties. A rainbow of fantastic colours of hair was everywhere he seemed to look, people with all manners of facial piercings left him wondering how anyone in this place could blow their nose without ripping their septum completely out.

Gil felt immediately out of place and felt he stood out even more like a sore thumb thanks to the grey in his hair and the beard on his chin.

The walls were black, the lights were dim, and the music was loud – and the lyrics of that music didn't even seem to be English, and if it was, it was very poor English at that. The bar was crowded, the seats were all taken up, and there were groups of people standing with their drinks in one hand and cigarettes in the other. The faint smell of Cannabis left Gil thinking that perhaps someone's cigarette wasn't just a cigarette at all.

_Trust Greg Sanders to pick a place like this to invite his colleagues for drinks_, Gil thought shaking his head. He was beginning to feel very foolish for turning up at all.

He glanced around trying to pick out anyone he recognised. He was somewhat relieved that he saw no one familiar, and yet at the same time somewhat unnerved by that. Did this mean he was the first to arrive? How strange that would seem, for the person most reluctant on going in the first place being the first person to get there.

He pondered if perhaps this could be a trick, that they'd all pulled him in on some sort of practical joke – they meant for him to show up but had no intentions of showing up themselves.

_No, Cath wouldn't do that. Greg certainly wouldn't do that either if he expected to keep his job_, Gil thought.

"Oh my god, you came!"

He blinked, the voice coming from distinctly behind him, he turned, Sara Sidle standing there with her hair in curls, clad in a long flowing purple skirt, and a lilac top with tiny sequinned flowers embroidered upon the chest. Her lips were glossy and pink, her eyes dusted in lavender. She looked stunning – he'd never seen her look so undeniably beautiful.

All those familiar feelings began to rise up in himself, and he had to try and force them right back out of his head, he tried to regain his composure and stop staring so much.

"Nick and Warrick were convinced you wouldn't show up," Sara admitted, smirking, she folded her arms. "In fact, they had a bet against Cath that you wouldn't. She'll be two hundred bucks up by tonight."

"No wonder she kept hounding me to come," Gil commented.

"Is anyone else here, yet?" Gil asked. He found himself speaking loudly just to be heard over the music.

"Not yet," Sara glanced at her watch, "it's only ten past seven. It's much more popular to be fashionably late. I got here about ten minutes ago – which says a lot about me and my fashion."

Gil chuckled, slightly amused. It reminded him that the first time he'd seen her, at a seminar he'd given in Harvard several years ago, she'd been the first to show up.

They sauntered to the bar, finding it slightly difficult to not bump into the several patrons who were all congregating around it. "What would you like?" he asked Sara, gesturing to the bar.

"A Screaming Orgasm," she called out to him, and her expression was so completely indifferent asking this, he was taken aback.

_Did she just say what I think she said_? He thought, feeling rather dismayed. He looked at her blankly for a few moments, then cleared his throat, "I meant to drink…" he said after a moment, finding himself growing rather flustered.

"So did I," Sara responded, "just ask for it at the bar, whoever serves you will know what you're talking about, I'll go see if I can get a table."

"Good luck…" Gil trailed off, he watched her go then made his way through more people to finally get served.

The bar maid, a gothic woman painted white with black lips, stared at him expectantly.

"One Budweiser, and a Screaming Orgasm," he said, the words felt strange on his tongue.

"You look like you need one," the woman responded bluntly, she went to deal with the drinks. Two minutes later, she had the drinks, she placed them down, he paid, and left the bar, glancing around.

He found Sara sitting at a table, looking rather smug with herself.

"What're you smiling at?" Gil asked as he placed her drink in front of her.

Sara gave a soft laugh, "I got six people to walk up and leave this table," she said, "told them I was a cop and that I could have them arrested for possession of marijuana – two of them had joints. I've never seen anyone leave a table so fast in my life."

"You're not a cop," Gil pointed out to her, taking a seat himself.

"They don't know that," Sara said, "I showed them my C.S.I I.D., they bought into it, anyway," she shrugged, she picked up her glass and took a delicate sip.

A silence fell between them, the music boomed in the background making it ever so less slightly awkward, "are you sure the others are coming?" Gil asked.

"Yeah, I called Catherine the minute I got here to say I'd arrived. She said she'd be about half an hour – her sister is supposed to be watching Lindsay and she's running late. Nick said he'd be here at half past seven, he had some errands to run and Warrick said he'd probably be here sooner or later – probably later. Knowing Warrick he'd come about ten minutes past eight, being the last to arrive, just to look cool, and hip," she rolled her dark eyes with a smile.

"What about Greg…I'm surprised he's not here yet," Gil admitted, "since he picked this place and all."

"You never know with Greg," Sara shrugged, "no one knows when he's arriving."

"What exactly is a Screaming Orgasm?" Gil asked with an eyebrow raised.

"If you have to ask, you'll never know," Sara teased, she held her drink out to him.

Gil took the glass, and glanced into it, he sniffed at it, "vodka?"

"Yep," she replied.

He gave it a tiny sip, "Amaretto?"

"You're good," Sara took the drink back from him, "but you left out the Irish Cream and Kahlua."

"Sorry. Cocktail identification definitely isn't one of my best skills," he replied, he took a swig from his bottle of beer.

Sara brushed a curl of hair away from her face, and Gil turned away, he didn't want to keep looking at her in this way, he felt his the emotion rising up inside of him. They hadn't been alone together since the night a storm had caused a blackout over most of Vegas. Gil had spent the night at her apartment waiting until the power came back on, but before hand, being in a room with her surrounded by candles hadn't helped his situation with her.

And being alone with her at a table in a bar with a drink in his hand and her looking as incredibly stunning as she did wasn't exactly helping either. This felt like it was two seconds from being a date, and he didn't like that thought.

_What if that's been the plan all along_, he thought, _what if this was someone's joke that they'd all meet us here and set us up like two twenty-year olds who like each other and just don't know it. It screams set up. I should leave_.

"You have that look on your face," Sara commented after taking another sip from her drink.

"Look?" Gil asked, pretending to be very nonchalant and afraid she could see through him.

Sara gave a shrug, "You know, the typical, Grissom look. As if you're quietly analysing something," she explained, "so what's goin' on in your head."

"Only the question of how did Cath pull me into this in the first place…" he stated. It was somewhat truthful, just slightly off what he'd been thinking.

"That'll be a mystery you'll never understand," Sara took another sip of her drink, "but at least you're here now," she said, "you might as well try and enjoy it."

"PARTY TIME!"

The yell caught them by surprise, and they turned as Greg Sanders dropped into a chair at the table. "Greg, we were just wondering when you'd make your appearance," Sara said, she smirked.

"He showed up," Greg pointed to Gil as if he were a piece of meat rather than his boss. "He's actually here…how did she do it?"

"Cath is some kind of miracle worker," Sara remarked.

"Some kind of bully, more like," Gil uttered under his breath, he glanced at his watch, twenty minutes past seven, no sign of the others – save Greg. He'd wait, let them all show up, have one more drink – and let them all see him drink – and then he could go, then he'd made some kind of effort and they couldn't complain much anymore. "Catherine called my apartment four times consecutively to leave messages telling me I better go. The last message – which was more of a threat – advised me that if I didn't go, she'd have you all come to my apartment. I figured I better comply."  
"So it isn't just my charming company you've come to enjoy, then?" Greg gushed, "oh well, I know that's why Sara came – right?"

"What charming company?" Sara asked, finishing her drink, "you've just sat down, you haven't even offered to get us a drink. That's rude in my opinion. Me and Gil hadn't even got a table yet, and already he offered me a drink."

Gil felt a shiver at that comment. The words 'me and Gil' didn't seem to sound right. What didn't sound right first off was that she usually called him Grissom, or Gris. Gil was personal, it felt personal, and that was uncomfortable and unfamiliar to him.

"You're right, I apologize," Greg stood and gave a congenial bow mockingly, "and what would the lady like? Is that a Screaming Orgasm?"

"Yes," Sara responded.

"Wow. I wonder how many bosses give their employees a Screaming Orgasm," Greg smirked, he looked at Gil and wiggled his eyebrows.

Gil frowned slightly, "Greg…" he said in a warning tone, to indicate the boy was walking on very thin ice.

"I'm going, I'm going…" Greg disappeared off to buy drinks.

Sara ran her finger over the rim of her empty glass absently, "he's just as zany as he is at work," she commented thoughtfully.

"And annoying," Gil rolled his eyes. Somewhere inside, Gil wished Greg hadn't come at all, and yet, at the same time was glad he had because now he didn't have to sit alone with Sara like an awkward date he didn't want to be on.

"He looks cute without a lab coat on," Sara mused.

"He likes you," Gil took another swig of his beer.

Sara scoffed, "since when?"

"Since…the moment you first came to C.S.I. more or less," Gil responded. "In fact, when you first came to C.S.I., I think you turned the head of every guy in the place," he added.

"Even yours?" Sara raised an eyebrow.

_Walked right into that one, didn't you, Gris. When will you ever learn_? He thought angrily at himself. "Mines was the exception – I'd seen you before, remember?"

Sara seemed content enough with that answer, so Gil left it at that. He half expected her to ask if she'd turned his head when he'd first saw her years before, but she didn't.

"One Screaming Orgasm," said Greg as he returned putting Sara's drink down on the table.

"I bet this is the first Screaming Orgasm you've ever given any woman," Sara mused.

Gil suppressed a chuckle at the childish pout on Greg's young face, then watched as Greg put a bottle down in front of him, another Budweiser. "I didn't ask for anything…" Gil began.

Greg shrugged, "I figured you could use another," he sat down, he himself was having some strange concoction that was blue, neither Sara nor Gil asked what it was. "So everyone else is running late?"

"Yeah, but they'll show up soon," Sara stated, as if to ease Greg's mind, "so…you arranged all this, where are we going?" she asked of Greg.

"Oh, there's this cool restaurant, all you can eat Chinese…it's called Saigon, Saigon."

"All you can eat Chinese. Perfect," Sara rolled her eyes, "I thought this was supposed to be a classy affair."

"Who needs classy? We'll be shovellin' the food down, throwin' back a couple of drinks and heading out to a nightclub. I thought you said you wanted to have FUN on this night out?"

"I did," Sara said, "but I didn't say I wanted 'fun for under 30 bucks'."

"Hey, you make more than I do, I have to work on a budget here," Greg pointed out, he pulled a digital camera out of his pocket, and he pointed it at Sara. "Smile for Greg," he teased.

Sara held a solemn and stubborn face, deliberately, and nevertheless, Greg hit the button on the camera anyway, and momentarily blinded Sara and Gil.

"Isn't that a works camera?" Sara raised an eyebrow.

"Of course it is," Greg said, "but no one will notice it's gone," he promised.

"Greg…" Gil said, "you know if something happens to that camera I'd have to fire you…" he said.

Greg forced a confident smile, "nothing will. I'm only careless with my own stuff."

"You BETTER not print out that photo of me," Sara warned.

"That baby is goin' on the bulletin board in the hall," Greg joked.

"And your head will be going down the nearest toilet if it does," Sara responded sharply.

Gil listened to them prattle on for several more moments before Catherine Willows and Warrick Brown made an appearance.

"Gil, you showed up!" Catherine's eyes lit up, "Fancy that."

"Yeah, fancy that," Gil folded his arms and smirked.

Catherine put her hand on his shoulder, "you knew what was good for you," she responded, "anyone need a drink?"

"No," Gil responded.

Sara accepted, she'd finished her second drink fairly quickly. "Screaming Orgasm," she said to Catherine.

Greg had downed his own drink in one gulp – it was some kind of shooter that smelled almost like mouthwash – so he also accepted the offer of a drink. "Aftershock for me – blue only. Red makes me gag."

Catherine and Warrick disappeared off to the bar to get a round of drinks for everyone.

Greg noticed an acquaintance of his at the other side of the room, and got up, "excuse me," he said, "I see one of my biggest fans over there, better go say hi," he said, pretending as if he were some kind of celebrity rather than a C.S.I level 1. He disappeared off into the crowd, leaving Sara and Gil alone at the table.

Gil eyed Sara's empty glasses concernedly, "go easy with those, that's a lot of alcohol, I mean…vodka and amaretto…" he reminded.

"I'm fine, I have a high tolerance."

_That worries me_, thought Gil_. People with high tolerances are people who drink a lot, and Sara's drinking makes me nervous_. "That's all and well, but you're working tomorrow, and it's not appropriate to come to work smelling like alcohol. Ecklie would have a field day with that."

"He has a field day any day," Sara rolled her eyes, "anyway, we all agreed tonight we wouldn't talk about work…"

"Then what is there to talk about?" Gil asked, he leaned back in his chair, arms still folded.

"We'll figure somethin' out," Sara shrugged, she tucked her hair behind her ear.

Greg returned to his seat, just as Catherine and Warrick returned with drinks. Catherine placed Sara's drink down, "there you go."

"Wow, now Cat's giving Sara a Screaming Orgasm. This is some wild party. Kind of like an alcoholic orgy," Greg mused.

"Behave," Catherine slapped the back of his head, "and what have I told you about calling me that?"

Greg winced, "ow…" he laughed, he grabbed his camera and took a picture of her.

Nick Stokes was the last to arrive, he dropped into a chair, "sorry I'm late, was helping a neighbour fix her car."

"This neighbour hot?" Greg asked, absently snapping photos.

"That's not the only reason I'd help a lady fix a car," Nick rolled his eyes.

"But was she hot?" Greg asked.

"What do you think?" Nick asked and grinned.

Warrick gestured to a beer on the table, "got you one, figured you'd show up soon enough," he said to Nick.

"Hey, Gris, look this way," Greg said as he held the camera in Gil's direction, he took a few random photos.

"Put that thing away," Gil requested, shaking his head.

Soon, they were all sitting, drinking, laughing and discussing things amongst each others, talking like they'd known each other their whole lives.

All, that was, except from Gil, who was more of a spectator. He listened, whilst he sipped on the beer Greg had bought him. His eyes kept falling upon Sara, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was so enchanting, the way her dark eyes glittered when she laughed at the madcap things Greg would say, or the way she'd brush her hair out of her face with one finger. He was entranced for long stretches at a time.

He was entranced so much he was distracted completely, he forgot all about his plans to leave early after having had one more drink with them all. Four drinks later and he was still sitting there.

Three more rounds of drinks later, and the six were set to go to dinner at this Saigon, Saigon place that Greg had talked of. Gil walked a little behind them, watching their behaviour, their laughter. It was nice to see them out of work,

The Chinese restaurant wasn't bad. The serve yourself policies were a little hectic, and there wasn't a moment where someone wasn't getting up from the table to go get something else from the buffet. Gil ate lightly, he didn't feel much like eating all.

The only bad thing about the Chinese restaurant – he felt – was that for some reason he'd ended up seated next to Sara. This hadn't been Sara's choice to take that seat, but rather a waiter who had pulled her chair for her politely, and pushed it in for her when she'd sat.

_I should have offered to do so_, thought Gil. _How un-gentlemanly of me. That goes to show how long it's been since I even had a date…that I don't pull chairs for women anymore_. He pondered if he even held doors open for women anymore. He had to think back and realised he probably didn't.

During the meal, whenever Sara would want to say something to Gil in particular, she would reach out and put her hand upon his wrist to get his attention. He hadn't been able to respond much at all, really, except from agree with her whenever she asked his opinion on something. Apart from this, Gil barely spoke, although he very much enjoyed the banter of Greg and the in depth discussions everyone else was having.

_Okay, so maybe I'm not having as much of a bad time as I figured I would_, he thought as he sipped a glass of water he was having with dinner, he'd decided to lay off the drink. He was also to be at work tomorrow and didn't need the hangover anymore than he needed a hole in the head.

Sara, however, hadn't stopped drinking since the moment she'd got into the restaurant. He'd lost count of how many drinks she'd had at the bar. Four? Five? Maybe six? Now she was on wine – she'd even had a few sips of Nick's beer. Gil was concerned her mixing drinks was going to make her very ill indeed. He counted four glasses of wine, and then lost count.

"You've hardly touched your beef satay," Sara pointed out to Gil, "not hungry?"

"Not particularly," he admitted, he looked at her, he could see the haze in her eyes that she was finding it harder and harder to focus clearly on anything and anyone she looked at. She'd really drank too much. He wondered if he should perhaps call a cab for her and tell her she had to go home, that he wasn't going to let her get any more drunk.

But what could he do? She was a grown woman, who could certainly look after herself. She wasn't doing anyone any harm, and she didn't need to drive home, so why should it matter if she had too much to drink or not?

_It matters though_, he thought. _It matters because I care that it matters_. He sighed silently to himself as he watched her closely. Knowing he cared about her made his heart ache and his chest tighten.

"I'll have it," Sara picked up the beef satay and began to eat it in a very hungry and rather unladylike manner, Gil wasn't so much astonished by her stealing from his plate as he was with the fact she'd told him he was a vegetarian, yet she was eating beef.

"Aren't you a vegetarian?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Uh…" she paused, "when I'm not starving."

_Okay, so maybe alcohol has just made her hungry, who knows_, he thought, shaking his head absently. I can't even think straight it's so noisy at this table, he thought. He found it laughable that he was bothered by the noise. Barely two years ago, he'd found himself losing his hearing and then would have given anything to hear it all again – even this ruckus. Now he might have given anything for a pair of earplugs.

The longer they remained in the restaurant, the drunker Sara seemed to be getting, the fact was she was getting even louder, and more outrageous, her jokes became even more outlandish, and her eyes continued to get hazier.

Gil looked at Catherine with a somewhat helpless expression, and Catherine gave a shrug, as if to say 'what can I do?'. Gil spent a few moments considering what he himself could do, but came up with nothing.

He glanced up to see Greg taking photos – again. Sara glanced up, "is this my good side?" she asked drunkenly.

"Any side is your good side," said Greg adoringly, he snapped photos, "c'mon, get closer to Gris, put your hand on his shoulder or something, then people can't accuse us of 'Photoshopping' him in."

Sara got up, and awkwardly dropped herself into Grissom's lap. Her drunken weight crushed his apartment key right into his hip and he winced. "How's this?" she asked of Greg, laughing. She held on to her glass of wine, holding it up as if it were a trophy, she put her other arm around Gil's neck to steady herself, she let her cheek rest upon his hair.

"Classic," Greg burst out laughing, he took several photos, Gil couldn't smile, he couldn't even manage to laugh at this, it felt awkward and so inappropriate – and painful where his keys were concerned.

It felt even more awkward when Sara remained seated on his lap once Greg had put the camera down. Her arm still around his neck, he was almost convinced she would never let go and almost admitted to himself he really didn't want her to either.

"Are you okay?" Gil asked of her, he put his hand on her back gently to steady her, she was swaying more and more, and he could almost picture her so entirely unsteady that she'd tip off his lap entirely and land on Warrick.

"I'm excellent," she gave a rather assuring nod, and a grin, her eyes closed for a moment, he almost thought she might pass out there. "Actually, no I'm not, I need to pee," she pulled herself up off his lap and disappeared to find a bathroom.

Gil shook his head at this and rolled his eyes, he stared down at his plate, he was afraid everyone might be looking at him strangely, but no one seemed to have noticed at all. When Sara returned, she took her seat beside Gil again, and seemed oblivious to the lap-sitting incident totally as if it were already forgotten.

After the meal was over, Catherine, who by now had stolen the works camera from Greg, arranged for a waiter to take a picture of everyone together to mark the occasion with the photo. "It'll be nice to look back on," she explained to Gil, "try and smile, huh?" she nudged him as they walked over to a space where they could all stand together.

Catherine moved around directing everyone just how she wanted them to stand, and Gil noticed she was using her most professional tones as she spoke, and that ever so slightly amused him. Sara at his left side, Catherine at his right side, Greg, Warrick and Nick kneeling on the ground in front of them so everyone could fit into the photo.

Gil stood idly, waiting for the photo to be taken.

"Come on, at least LOOK like you're having a good time," Catherine nudged him once again, she took his arm and pulled it over her shoulder, "I know you hate close physical contact, but just grin and bear it," she added, rolling her eyes. "Put your arm around Sara," she added.

Sara pressed her head against Gil's shoulder, and Gil felt very lost between these two beautiful women, an arm around each of them. His arm was more behind Sara than around her, his hand secured on her waist, Sara gave a very blissful smile, and Gil caught it. He couldn't help but smile too, and the camera caught him that way, with probably the most genuine smile he'd given in a long time.

Retrieving the camera from the waiter, the six exited the restaurant, and walked for fifteen minutes to a nightclub that Greg frequented on his nights off. Sara staggered somewhere ahead, in her heels, making quite an exhibition of herself, at one point stumbling so much one of her heels came off, and she left it on the pavement, completely unfazed by the fact that she was walking at an awkward slant now since one foot was lower than the other. The other heel came off, and she left it there, Gil picked them both up as he walked, and carried them by his side, which gained many a curious eye by passers by. One person even commented, 'nice heels, man' jokingly, and he felt a blush creep up his neck.

Sara was walking barefoot across a pavement, and as they stopped outside of the nightclub to wait in a queue to get in, Gil caught up with her.

"I found these," Gil held her shoes up to show her.  
"Wow, they look just like the ones I'm wearing," Sara said drunkenly, and then looked down, "oh…someone stole my shoes!"

Gil rolled his eyes, why was it that alcohol always had the effect of making the smartest woman turn into a complete moron within a couple of hours? He handed her the shoes, "they fell off," he said.

Sara pulled them on awkwardly, she stood swaying, gripping onto the velvet rope nearby trying to steady herself.

Gil put his hand on her back tenderly, "you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she assured in a proud voice, "the world is swaying a bit though…I think it must be moving right now…" she added in a whisper as if she were fascinated.

Gil smiled a little, and thought of a romantic compliment. _Possibly. I know when I saw you tonight, I could have sworn I felt the Earth move_. He didn't say it, he didn't even try to. Even if he had, she'd never remember it.

"Lean on me," Greg said, he too, was pretty intoxicated by now, perhaps worse than Sara, although he seemed to be handling it better than Gil might have imagined, because he, at least, could stand perfectly straight, although his mouth hung open and he had a vacant stare which suggested just how much alcohol he had consumed.

Sara leaned on Greg for support, "you're sweet. But y'know…you're not Gil Grissom," she said rather candidly.

Greg looked at her as if to ask what she meant by that, and then laughed, "no…I'm not, I'm Greg…Greggo…"

Gil overheard all this, and just looked at her, she was now looking away from him and he could only see the back of her head, but the comment was terribly direct and he was concerned she might shout something out that would somehow reveal what her feelings might be for him. His worse case scenario at that minute was that she might jump out to where everyone could see her and shout something along the lines of 'I think Gil Grissom is just swell'.' He could feel his cheeks flush at how horrified he would feel if she did so.

He'd always known about the way she felt, but he had just always felt too helpless to do anything about it. He'd have liked to have given her everything she wanted from him, but things were never that simple, were they?

In the nightclub, the music was far worse than that in Frankenstein's bar. The music, now Gil was convinced, definitely wasn't in English. In fact, he could have sworn it was German.

Sara had barely been in the doors two seconds and she'd flung herself upon the dance floor – quite literally, falling and knocking over Greg who'd been at her side. They picked each other up, and laughed.

Catherine stood by Gil, shaking her head at the pair, "I've never seen anyone that smashed before – and I worked as a stripper. I relied on guys as drunk as Greg to put me through college," she grinned.

"I'm concerned. Look at Sara, she can barely stand…" Gil pointed out.

"She's young, let her enjoy herself, god knows, she's had enough despair at work to last a life time."

Gil folded his arms, and stood against a pillar, he watched Sara and Greg dancing ridiculously as he remained shrouded in the darkness. "This is dancing?" he asked.

"I know, it's not exactly a Slow Waltz or the Twist, but it's exercise," Catherine grinned, "you gonna dance, or you going to stand there looking po-faced all night?"

"I prefer the latter. If I danced, I'd probably hurt someone," Gil chuckled gently.

Catherine shrugged, "fair enough," she said, and she went off to join the others on the dance floor.

Warrick and Nick remained near the bar, talking with beautiful women most of the remainder of the evening, and Catherine, Greg and Sara danced in between drinking. Gil was somewhat surprised at Catherine's energy on the dance floor. _Hardworking mother, and still knows how to hang loose_, he thought with a smirk.

Gil let himself have one more cold beer, just to beat the heat of the place, but he remained ever watchful, keeping an eye on Sara, feeling the utmost concern.

He caught Sara at the bar downing a double vodka, and decided that she'd definitely had enough now, and that he'd better do something before she ended up passing out on the dance floor from alcohol poisoning.

_I shouldn't have let it go on this long_, Gil thought desperately. _I can't let her go home alone like this either. She'll get mugged, or walk out in front of a bus…or worse…Looks like I'm going to have to hail a cab for her_.

Gil moved over to the bar where Sara was standing, she'd just downed her drink, and she was swaying, "hey, you," he put his hand on her arm, "how many drinks is that you've had now?"

"Three?" she asked with an innocent smile.

"In one glass, from what I saw," he said, taking the empty glass from her, "c'mon…you've had enough excitement for one night," he put his hand under her elbow, gripping firmly. "I'll hail you a cab."

"I don't want to go home, yet," Sara pulled away and staggered, "I'm having fun."

"There's such a thing as too much fun," Gil assured.

"Not for me," Sara wandered to the dance floor, Gil followed her, tailing closely at her back.

They reached the small area where Catherine and Greg were dancing, and Gil leaned close to Catherine, "Cath, I'm gonna head off – but I'm gonna make sure Sara gets home first."

"Good idea, I'm just about to head out, my feet are killing me, and Greg is gonna go – he's working tomorrow morning! Can you imagine!"

Gil nodded, "okay."

"I'm glad you came," Catherine said loudly trying to be heard throughout the loud music. Gil managed to read her lips despite her voice was drowned out.

"I'm glad I came," Gil said very casually, but then winked slyly, he looked over to Sara, "Sara, the others are leaving…"

"Nooo," Sara made a face, "it was just getting good!"

"We'll do it again," Catherine promised.

Sara looked at Greg, "you're going too?"

"Gotta get up at eight for work. I want tomorrow night off so I have to do the day shift." Greg said, "so yeah."

Sara sighed, "alright…I'll see you guys tomorrow then…or…technically today…because it's already tomorrow and tomorrow is not today…or something."

Catherine disappeared, and Greg followed, they'd probably share a cab. Warrick and Nick seemed to have disappeared entirely, probably enjoying drinks in a quieter area with some ladies they'd met at the bar.

Gil was left standing at the edge of the dance floor with Sara beside him.

Sara looked at him, "you going too?" she asked almost as if she was going to accuse him of abandoning her like the rest.

"Do you want me to?" Gil asked, just out of interest, although deliberately knowing he'd never leave her here on her own. He knew too many bad things could happen to a drunk woman alone in Vegas, and he wasn't about to risk one of his best employees – especially when he – no matter how much he denied it – was in love with her.

"No," Sara shrugged, but smiled, "I like you the best," she added in a half whisper near his ear, as if this might be a secret, her speech very slurred and slowed.

"Thank you," Gil smiled a little at the compliment, he moved back from her close proximity and looked at her with a tender expression, "but it's three am, you know. Time you were getting home," he added.

"But it's still early," Sara interjected. Three am was early to her – she worked so many nightshifts that tonight, going home at three am was as ridiculous as wanting to go to bed at seven pm at night.

Gil was wondering how he could convince her – without causing a scene – to go home. "C'mon…this place will close soon."

"Greg said this place stays open all night," Sara commented firmly, she staggered again, she looked tired, and weak. She didn't need to dance the night away, she needed to go to bed and sleep off this binge.

Gil paused, looking away from her for just a second, a young couple – who looked to be in their twenties – were making out on the dance floor. It gave him an idea. Sara's attentiveness towards him all night – even whilst drunk – proved that she still had feelings lingering for him. Why not use those feelings to manipulating her into going home?

"Okay…well…" Gil turned his attention back to her, "you could stay here…and dance the night away all on your own…" he leaned a little closer to speak in her ear, just the way she had a moment ago with him, "or we could go back to your place - together," he tried to make the suggestion sound as intimate and evocative as possible, although he wasn't sure if he had done a good job in sounding convincing. Flirting and making such suggestions was something he didn't excel at with women.

Sara moved back a little and looked at him, her eyes full of wonder "what do you mean…?" she asked, looking a little blank.

_If she'd been sober, she definitely wouldn't have missed that suggestion,_ Gil thought_. Even when I don't flirt she finds ways to twist my words into sounding more meaningful_.

"Do I need to spell it out for you?" he asked, he raised an eyebrow and gave a shy smile, "I don't really think I can say it."

She looked a little unsure, and she staggered again, she gripped onto his shoulders with a start to steady herself. "Are you askin' me whatI think you're askin' me? 'Cause I really need to be sure…"

Gil placed both hands upon her waist in a tender way, although his hands were somewhat shaking, "I can be more explanative when we're at your place…but I think you know what I mean."

"Okay," she said at once, her eyes hopeful, her lips quivering in anticipation, she leaned forward as if to kiss him but he stopped her, her lips had been barely a centimetre from his as he'd caught her. He shuddered, thinking how close it had come. If she had kissed him, he was worried he might have succumbed completely to his feelings for her. He couldn't do that. He couldn't allow it.

"No, not here…" he said, he tried to remain calm, but he was now as nervous as ever. Being close to her, trying to convince her he wanted to be close to her, it was making his pulse race in ways it never had before. "When we get to your place…okay?"

"Alright," she said, her breath was somewhat uneven, her eyes were locked on his.

Great, how am I going to get myself out of this now? I'll figure something out when I get her to her apartment. Maybe I can tell her I left my oven on and go rushing out. Maybe I can tell her I made a mistake. Hell, she won't remember, look at the mess she's in, she's probably too drunk to even realise what her last name is.

They left the nightclub, and he managed to hail a taxi despite the high demand for one at this time of night outside the nightclub. They climbed in and Gil gave the driver the address.

Sara watched Gil, as if fascinated by him, then she reached over and tried to unbutton the first button of his shirt, he resisted that.

"Ah, ah, ah," he chided, "what did I say?" he asked. He swallowed, feeling all the more nervous

"Wait until we get to my place?" she asked, her voice childish, her expression incredibly naughty.

Gil nodded absently, and tried to focus on outside the window as the cab made its way across the busy streets of Vegas to get to Sara's apartment. He felt Sara fiddling with his hand, twining her fingers with his, rubbing her thumb against the top of his hand, and he tried to force out the thought of it. He felt like a kid all of a sudden, not sure at all what he should do with this woman.

Of course he knew what he could do with this beautiful woman. He knew of a thousand things he could do – none of which included sitting idly in a cab pretending to be indifferent towards her advances. But he knew he wasn't going to. His only concern was to get her into her apartment, then he'd find some way to get away.

She'd be fine on her own as long as she was home. She'd throw up or she'd fall asleep or she'd spend the night dancing to loud music and annoying her neighbours. As long as he didn't have to go through with what he had suggested to her, he didn't care what she did.

She didn't let go of his hand until the end of the cab ride, when he objected to her holding his hand because he had to pay the fare. When they got out of the cab, they stood on the street for a moment, she was still as drunk as she'd been when they'd left, the final drink having kicked in now, and she was still staggering, trying to keep her footing and failing miserably.

She looked at him, her eyes never leaving him for a second. He wanted to run. Run and hide, and pretend that nothing ever happened and nothing was ever said if she asked him about it at work. But she probably wouldn't. She was too hammered now to be able to remember anything after tonight. The way she talked said it all.

At least I can walk her up to her apartment, after that, I'm going. He thought, trying to stay focused and calm, although his heart was pounding in his chest like a bass drum so hard it almost made him ache.

Sara led the way, she fell up the stairs several times and if Gil hadn't caught her he imagined she'd have fallen completely down one short flight and ended up with a few more bruises than she probably had right now. Her hair no longer hung in the attractive curls it had earlier, it was now mussed and hanging over her face rather unflatteringly.

Gil smirked at the sight of her, and followed onwards.

She struggled in her handbag to get the key, and when she found it, she dropped it.

Gil knelt down and picked it up, he held it towards her, feeling almost like a man about to propose with caret diamond ring to a woman he'd been in love with all his life. He laughed quietly to himself and pulled himself up, he watched her struggle even further to get the key in the lock. Was her hand shaking?

He put his hand on hers to steady it and led the key into the lock, then let go. She turned to look at him, her eyes were smouldering, her lips trembling in anticipation. Despite how drunk she looked and how much of a mess she was now in, he couldn't help but want her. He was still a man after all, testosterone kept blatantly reminding him of this.

But he wasn't going to have her. He didn't deserve to have her. And even if he did deserve her – deserve this moment – he wasn't going to cheapen it by sleeping with her when there had never even been a first date, a first kiss, or the simple three words he'd never told any woman before. 'I love you'.

She opened the door and stumbled in, falling on her knees, she looked ready to pass out from exhaustion. Gil wondered if she'd even slept since leaving her shift, or had she spent all day making herself look so beautiful. He helped her up, "careful, you're going to hurt yourself," he scolded softly.

"It's okay…I don't feel it…" she confessed.

Gil shrugged, "but you will tomorrow. Pain usually sets in the night after alcohol has worn itself out," he held her up.

She slid her arm behind his neck and he looked away from her, pretending to be fascinated by the true crime novels she had a collection of on her small bookcase.

_I'm in a jam, now. How do I get out of this without hurting her feelings_? He thought. _I can't go through with this, I can't sleep with her. I can't put her through that...I can't put myself through that either_.

She turned his head so that he faced her, and she drunkenly tried to kiss him, but he dodged, and she just barely caught his chin. Bad move, he thought as he trembled, her lips seemed to be fine with that, and began to travel down his throat, it sent more inappropriate thoughts racing through his frantic mind. It felt good, and it certainly felt right, and in Gil's mind, that was wrong.

"Sara…" he said firmly, trying to move away from her.

She moved back too, now confused, "what's wrong?"

"I think I left my stove on," he said.

"I'm sure it'll survive an hour or so!" she laughed at this, her eyes glittering.

_She wants me to take an hour? I'm not even—okay, let's not even go there, _he thought. He gripped her firmly to steady her, "you're drunk, and I don't know if this is such a good idea anymore," he said.

"Sure it is…if it doesn't happen now…it might never happen," she looked at him. It seemed to have been the most sober thing she'd said tonight.

He spent moments considering this, but forced a smile, "you're tired, Sarah, you need sleep, not…not…sex."

"I need you," she said, her voice dry and emotional, he was sure she might cry right then. Crying from Sara was something he couldn't bear.

He ached, his heart, his lungs, his whole chest felt as if it might cave in as he sighed, he let his forehead rest against hers, emotionally weary, not sure how much longer he could put on this fight with her. He closed his eyes to take that moment to try and pull himself desperately together.

He wanted to go right now, before he made a mistake that would sabotage everything he'd ever worked for in his life – and sabotaged his friendship with her. "I don't know what to do about this…"

Sara looked at him in disbelief, "Gil…I lo—" she began.

"I know…" Gil interrupted quickly, he knew what words were coming and he didn't need to hear them, it might break his heart to hear them…and it might break hers to say he couldn't love her back right now, that he might never be able to, "lets go to the bedroom, then," he said.

_Good idea_, he thought, _get her to lie down, close her eyes, talk to her softly, she'll drop off. She's drained. She's going to go out like a light, sooner or later._

She smiled, contented again, took his hand and led him towards the bedroom, her eyes full of mischief, yet, at the same time, full of emotion, he could tell her heart was beating just as furiously as his.

If _she remembers this tomorrow, I'll probably crawl under a rock and die_, he mused. She stood there facing him, and he stepped close enough, backing her up to the bed, he placed his hands on her shoulders and manoeuvred her into a lying position, her hair tumbled onto the bed sheets, light from the street lamps outside filled the dark bedroom, enough that he could see her perfectly even when the lights weren't on.

_This might be the closest you ever get to being near her_, he realised. He leaned over her, and stroked her hair away from her face, looking at her, her eyes closed lightly, as if she were savouring the moment. He brushed the backs of his fingers across her warm forehead, "go to sleep," he murmured softly.

He moved back and slipped the shoes off her feet, tossing them aside. He ran his fingers across her soft velvety cheek, watching her for reaction – for a smile, a flinch, anything. When he realised she wasn't moving at all – save her soft even breathing – he knew she'd gone out like a light, just as he'd predicted she would.

Sighing, relieved that he wouldn't have to go through with the suggestion he'd lured her here with, he pulled himself together, and he turned her over so she was lying on her stomach, he moved the wastepaper bin to the side of her bed in case she felt sick, and he gave her one last look before he left.

_The closest you'll ever come to being near her_, the thoughts ran through his mind again almost like an echo. He felt somewhat as if he'd lost the chance of a lifetime, and yet felt proud of the fact he'd resisted.

The only comfort he had right now was that was sure that by the time she woke up, she wouldn't remember any of it what so ever. That was solace enough for him.


	3. Chapter 3: Victim of Choices

**Chapter 3**

**Victim of Choices**

****

* * *

The first thing Gil Grissom saw when he got to work – other than the walls and the doors he had to pass – was the bulletin board in the hall just outside the break room. And he stopped to stare – mostly in complete dismay. Several new photos had just been pinned up, and he was seriously more than aghast that they were photos from the night before.

One photo in particular, was standing out, of Sara Sidle sitting on his lap, a drink in her hand, her arm around his neck, and laughter in her eyes as she had her cheek against his hair. As nice a photo as it was, he didn't like the implications it seemed to make, he tore it down, and looked for any other photo that might be suggestive.

Another photo of him and Sara standing at the bar, his hand was under her elbow as if he intended to lead her away somewhere. _Greg must have taken that one when we didn't even know it_, Gil thought angrily. He pulled this photo down also.

The only other photo that he didn't like that was upon the board was a photo of the whole team at the Chinese restaurant, but since everyone was in it, and his arm was around Catherine Willows as well as Sara Sidle, he left it there, not much could be said about that one. He shook his head and holding the two photos he'd removed, he headed towards the break room to get a cup of coffee before he started his shift. Greg was sitting there eating a yoghurt, he glanced up.

"Burn these," Greg tossed the photos onto the table,"

"I did…onto some blank discs, which I'm selling for three bucks a pop," Greg responded, he licked his spoon. "You want a copy?"

Gil frowned, "I still haven't done your employee evaluation, you know."

"Consider them burned," Greg sighed, "but I don't know what the problem with them is – they're good photos. Look at how gorgeous Sara looks in them."

"The problem is I'm in them," Gil responded, "you could have found something more interesting to photograph than me, now get rid of them."

"I don't get what she sees in you sometimes," Greg uttered, mostly under his breath, and Gil missed most of it.

Catherine Willows stepped into the break room, "was last night killer or what?" she asked with the slight slur of a hangover.

"Coffee?" Gil asked, pouring a cup.

Catherine nodded, and stood by the table glancing at the photos, she bent down to pick them up in examine them, "aw, these photos," she said grinning, "look at Sara. She's lit up."

"She was plastered," Gil reminded.

"Everyone was, except you," Catherine uttered.

"Coffee…" came a groan from the door.

The three turned to see Sara entering the break room, her eyes shielded by dark sunglasses. Her hair was still in a semblance of the style it had been last night, loose curls, only now the curls had somewhat fell out in places, and in others had become frizzy. It was obvious the woman hadn't even showered yet.

"Good morning to you too," Catherine smirked.

Greg got up, "well, I gotta go do some work, I finish in an hour," he said, "hey Sarah," he smiled brightly as he passed her, and disappeared.

"He left the damn photos," Gil uttered under his breath, "never mind, I'll dispose of them myself."

"You're a grouch," Catherine said, "hey Sara, what'd you think?" she held the photos out to Sara."

Sara took the photos and looked at them, "did I do that?" she asked, gesturing to her sitting on Gil's lap.

"Yes, I have a bruise in the shape of my house key thanks to you," Gil responded, he poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her.

"I'm sorry…" Sara frowned, more at herself than the thought of what she'd done, as if she couldn't quite believe she'd done it at all. "God, last night is a blur," Sara sighed as she sat down, rubbing her head, she took her glasses off. She'd washed the makeup off, but Gil could see the traces of eyeliner she hadn't been able to remove.

_It's good that she thinks last night is a blur, that means she probably doesn't remember what I said about going back to her apartment_, Gil thought.

Cath grabbed her coffee, "I gotta go, I gotta go speak to Greg about a DNA sample from yesterday – before I forget and he goes home. See you later," she waved and disappeared out of the door.

Sara glanced up at Gil, "you don't look happy in these photos," she gestured.

"I was tired," Gil lied. "Do you have any idea how much you drank last night?" he asked.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me," Sara grumbled tiredly.

"Way too much – that's how much you had to drink. Sara, you were walking along the street with no shoes on. You fell on the dance floor, and you were knocking back double vodkas at the nightclub like they were merely water..."

"I barely remember the nightclub," Sara confessed, she sipped her coffee and made a face at the bitter taste, "there's no cream in this…" she looked into it, she looked completely pale and nauseated.

"Best way for it, I think," Gil took a seat opposite her, "so, do you remember if you had a good time last night?"

"I had a blast," Sara said, "I must have," she pointed to the photos, "certainly doesn't look like I was miserable."

"You did seem to be in a good mood," Gil sipped his own coffee, he looked away from her.

"I don't even remember getting home," Sara placed her coffee on the table and rubbed her temples.

Gil knew it was a mistake to say it before he did but somehow his mouth worked ahead of his mind, "I took you home."

"Oh…" Sara seemed a little puzzled, "oh…" she added again, "was I passed out?"

"Yes, yes you were," he lied, he felt terribly guilty now for lying to her, "you passed out after a double vodka so I took you home," He added as an afterthought.

Sara paused, then looked at him, "thanks," she said quietly, "that…was nice of you?"

_Nice? Nice? Just nice_? He thought as he looked at her in disbelief. Do you have any idea of what could have happened? _If I'd been any otherguy you'd have woken up in that bed not so alone – I think that's more than just nice._

"You look weird," Sara said, blinking.

"Sorry, I was a million miles away," he shook his head, "Anyway, I know you're here now so there's not much I can do about it, but I want you to take a half day. You look terrible."

"Thanks, that's just what a girl wants to hear," Sara grumbled.

"I don't want you going out on the field in that condition, you're hung over, and you still stink of booze," he smirked.

"You're so flattering, did anyone tell you that?" Sara's eyes were wide with disbelief.

"All the time," Gil said, and put on a grin although he felt far from smiling at all.

"So what do you want me to do today, then?" Sara asked, she gazed down into her coffee cup somewhat dreamily.

"I want you to help me with paperwork, I have masses of it, it's all out of date and sequence and I need to get some of the priority stuff on top of that pile."

"I'm not a secretary, Grissom. I'm a C.S.I.," Sara said bluntly.

"And I'm the boss," Gil said, "and I have field work to do and I'm in a bind..."

Sara looked at him, "oh come on, you're going out on the field, but you're not letting me go because I'm hung over?"

"Hey, I told you to curb your drinking last night. You should have listened to me," he got up and passed by her, "one other thing," he stopped, "get rid of those photos – put them in the shredder or something."

"Yes, sir," Sara saluted him mockingly.

Gil had to smile, she was just as charming when she was hung over and in a bad mood. He pulled himself together and maintained a stoic expression, "I'll come check on you later, I have stuff to do."

When Gil returned from his field work, Sara was sitting in the chair at his desk in his small office, sifting through papers, she looked as if she were having a hard time reading, her eyes squinted, a frown knitted upon her forehead. He stood at the open threshold, watching her for some moments.

It took a few moments for her to realise he was there, and she glanced up, "hey," she said wearily.

"Get it all sorted?" he asked, he walked, hands in his pockets, he stood in front of the desk looking at her. It was strange, seeing her sitting behind his desk, it almost made him feel like she was his boss, not the other way around.

"Most of it," Sara gestured to a pile of folders and papers, she sighed, "would have done it all by now if I hadn't had to stop four times to go throw up," she added regretfully. "This is stuff that absolutely needs to be taken care of today," she said, she gestured to a smaller pile, "this is stuff that isn't top priority."

"Good work," he nodded.

"How could you fall behind with this?" she asked, "I mean there's five request forms for new stock in the lab from Greg alone!"

"Five…there was only four yesterday," Gil frowned, he shook his head, "fine, I'll take care of it..." he sat down upon the chair opposite her, and looked at her.

"Y'know, I don't envy you this job even a tiny bit," Sara confessed, she tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I sometimes envy you. I hate not being able to have as much freedom in the field as I used to," Gil confessed, his voice was very monotone.

"When I passed out, did I throw up on you at all?" Sara asked.

Gil glanced over to her, "what makes you ask?"

"Just the way you're acting, you're treating me like…you're mad," she confessed. "Way I figure it, the only way you'd be totally mad at me is if I disgusted you by probably throwing up on your or something."

"I'm not mad, not at all," he stated, and he sincerely wasn't. _Frustrated, maybe, especially after last night, but no, definitely not mad_, he thought.

"Right…your being 'not mad' is why I'm sifting through your backlog of paperwork when I should be out there doing my job!" she stood up, suddenly she was quite emotional and Gil stood quickly too.

"That's nothing to do with it," Gil stated, he tried to remain calm, he put his hands out to gesture as if he were about to surrender, "it's because you're hung over, and I personally don't need one of my team out there on the job with a self-inflicted illness that could compromise an investigation."

"Self-inflicted?" Sara gaped.

"You drank and you drank. If that's not self inflicted, I don't know what is," he said, and a moment later, he realised he'd been a little too blunt, because she was looking blankly at him now. "Okay…maybe self inflicted is the wrong way to say it," he swallowed, he surrendered again, "self-indulged, perhaps?"

Sara simply shook her head in disbelief and walked by him completely, leaving the office without another word.

_Terrific_, he thought. _I stepped right into an argument with her and insulted her. I might as well have called her a raging alcoholic_. He turned and watched the hallway as she disappeared down it, her arms folded almost protectively, her shoulders hunched.

_I don't think buying her a plant is going to gain her forgiveness this time_, he realised. He took after her, catching up with her just outside of a soda machine.

"I didn't mean that," he said, "I don't know what I mean. I just…"

"Don't, okay, just don't," Sara said, "I know what you meant. That having me out there would directly look bad for you if I should screw up because—"

"It wasn't about that—" he tried to explain.

"The hell it wasn't," Sara folded her arms.

Gil hushed her by gesturing for her to be quiet, he grabbed her arm and led her back to his office, he stepped her right inside, and shut the door behind himself after entering, he looked at her, "This is about two things, Sara," he said, "Your health, and your career, and I'm concerned for both."

"My health is personal, my career is my problem. Don't 'concern' yourself about either of them," she folded her arms, standing stubborn as ever.

"Ecklie is lookin' for any reason for one of my team to mess up - to get you out of this place would make his day. He doesn't like your behaviour at the best of times and you know that from past history. I need you on my team, Sara," Gil said firmly, "I don't want to give him any reason to suspend you, or get you kicked out of here," he explained. "If that means I have to keep you out of the field because of a hangover then so be it. But at least I'll feel better knowing I'm not putting your career at risk."

"Oh, you'll 'feel better', what is that you actually saying you 'have some feeling'?" she asked defiantly.

He was beginning to lose his temper, and felt like he was losing this fight with her – and it wasn't even the kind of argument where he desperately wanted to be right. "Sara, you know perfectly well what I feel," he said heatedly.

"No I don't," she said quietly. "Tell me."

His cellular phone began to ring, and she looked at him expectantly. He reached into his pocket to answer the thing. _Saved by the bell_, he thought gratefully as he answered the phone.

By the time he was through with his phone call, Sara was gone from his office, he hadn't even seen her leave.

_Smooth_, _Gil_, _real smooth_, he thought in despair.

It was 1am when Gil had momentarily looked up from his paperwork to see Sara Sidle running past his office with her hand over her mouth. From what he'd seen of her, her face had been deathly pale. He leaned awkwardly in his chair to see her dash down the hall and disappear into the ladies restroom, then he heard the faint echoes of her throwing up.

He sighed and put his pencil down. This shift was becoming a nightmare. First their argument and now she was vomiting in the ladies restroom – instead of having just gone home like he'd told her to do in the first place. He glanced at his watch. There was only three more hours to their shift. He picked up his jacket from the back of his chair, packed away everything he'd been doing neatly, and he turned off the light and locked his office door. He headed towards the ladies room. He hadn't seen any other women stepping in so he had no problem with walking in unannounced.

"Sara?" he asked, he walked between the rows of stalls, Sara was in the first one, she'd left the door open, she was kneeling on the floor, her brown hair – which was now tinged in sweat – was hanging in her face.

"Go away," she groaned. A wave of nausea came over her, and she made the most God awful sound as she threw up.

Gil moved into the stall, feeling rather claustrophobic in the small space – not to mention slightly uneasy that some other woman might stumble in at any moment to see a man standing there in the ladies restroom. "I'm going to take you home," he said, "you're ill, you can't work like this."

"I'll be fine, will you just leave me alone?" she asked half breathless. Another wave hit her, she brought it up.

Gil moved a little closer, "you're not fine," he touched her back gently. "Let me look at you…" he commanded.

She raised her head, and let it settle against the cold plastic walls of the stall. She was pasty, and clammy, and she was breathing heavily. She was sitting now with her back against the wall, her legs stretched out on the floor so that they extended into the next stall. Her eyes half closed lazily, her mouth hung open.

Gil went to a paper towel dispenser and grabbed a few, then ran them under the cold water faucet of the nearest sink. He moved back to the stall, and squatted down, he put his hand under her chin to tip her head up a little, and he dabbed the sweat from her face away with the wet paper towels. He brushed away the strands of her brown hair that had stuck to her face with the perspiration

Sara's eyes closed, an expression of relief at the cold comfort of the wet paper towels upon her hot clammy flesh.

"Are you done hurling?" Gil asked, he wiped her face tenderly.

"I think so," Sara's voice was more of a whimper than a groan. She looked close to crying.

Gil used the smaller edge of a wet paper towel to wipe her mouth in a delicate fashion, he took that moment just to appreciate how beautiful her mouth was.

_Strange situation_, he thought dourly at himself. _She's just thrown up more than I thought was humanly possible, and now you're sitting thinking of how much you'd like to kiss her. These aren't the thoughts of a perfectly sane human being, Gil._

Then, catching him by surprise, Sara put her hand to her face and began to quietly sob, she pulled her knees up to her chest, and hugged them with her free arm.

Gil felt at a loss, what was he supposed to do now? Why was she even crying in the first place? "Sara?" he said, softening his voice just a little, "What's wrong?"

He didn't want to ask her what was wrong, he wanted to pull her into his arms and let her cry upon his chest until her tears ran dry. But he was Gil Grissom. Gil Grissom didn't do such things – even when his heart was aching to. The most he could do was just ask what was wrong and leave it at that.

"I don't know, alright?" she tried to pathetically wipe her tears but more just followed.

Gil looked around absently, trying to find something to say that might make her feel better, but without knowing what the actual problem was, he couldn't find anything that would actually do any good. It was while he was looking around he noticed the pieces of ripped up photo on the floor for the first time. He recognised his own face amongst the pieces, and a piece the colour Sara's outfit had been last night.

_She's ripped up the photo_, he realised, he now recognised the photo to be the one of Sara sitting on his lap from last night. It was then how much he realised he hadn't really wanted to see the photo destroyed at all. Did this mean she was still mad at him for earlier? He tried to look at it logically but his emotions might have been clouding any judgement.

Gil stood up slowly, "c'mon, I'm going to take you home."

"You're still on your shift though," Sara sniffled, wiping back her tears.

Gil shrugged, he couldn't' say anything, but silently he was thinking, _work is less important than your well-being. You need my attention for the moment, work can wait._

He reached down and took her arms gently and helped her up, "I'm just going to go speak to Cath and tell her to take over for me for the next three hours – you splash your face with cold water, and pull yourself together, and I'll meet you at my car, okay?" he asked.

Sara gave an unsure nod, and watched him leave the ladies restroom.

Gil found Catherine in the lab with Greg Sanders, they were discussing an important piece of trace evidence that Greg was processing.

"Cath," Gil said as he stood at the threshold, he let his shoulder rest against the door frame, and he looked at her plainly.

"Uh huh?" Catherine asked, she glanced over her shoulder at him.

Gil gestured for her to come over, and he waited until she was only inches away. He spoke in a very low, careful voice, so that even Greg couldn't hear. "Sara's been sick for the better part of the day," he said, "I'm gonna go take her home…"

"Will you be back?" Catherine asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Gil responded, "I'm gonna stick with her for a while and make sure she's okay – so I want you to take over in my absence."

"But we're short staffed enough as it is!" Catherine gaped.

Gil gave her the look that said he didn't want to hear it, "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, and without another word, he left her standing there looking somewhat dazed – or perhaps it was angry, he wasn't really sure and to be honest, he wasn't sure he cared either.

By the time he had gotten to his car, Sara was already there waiting for him, she looked just as pale in the moonlight as she had under the harsh lights of the womens restroom.

"Did you speak to Cath?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

Gil gave a nod, but said nothing. Unlocked the car from the passengers side, and opened the door for her.

Sara got in, but she was watching him all the while, and that feeling of scrutiny came upon Gil again. He would have loved to momentarily know what was going through Sara's mind whenever she looked at him so closely.

Gil closed the door for her, and they glanced at each other briefly through the tinted glass window of the passenger side door. He tried to ignore how tense that made him feel. When she looked at him in that way, he wanted to give up everything he'd ever believed in and take his chances with her.

He climbed into the drivers seat, "if you feel like you're going to throw up again just tell me and I'll stop the car," he said softly, he reached to pull on his own seatbelt, but stopped, seeing she hadn't even put hers on. Either she wasn't really noticing anything or she had a death wish.

Gil sighed, reached over and grabbed the seatbelt at her side, and pulled it across her, "you'll be home soon," he said as he clipped it into place. He then pulled his own seatbelt on, and started the car.

Sara was silent during the whole journey. Gil got the impression that if she tried to speak she might be more likely to vomit. Or maybe, her silence was deliberate, maybe she was making a point – he was quite unsure if this might be the case.

When he parked outside her apartment, she remained still, staring into space as if she didn't even realise where she was.

"Sara, what's going on?" Gil asked, he switched the engine off and turned around to look at her. When she turned to look back at him he tried desperately searched her eyes for some kind of answer, but found nothing other than a vacant stare. "I'm beginning to worry," he confessed.

"Is that another confession that Gil Grissom actually feels things," Sara asked quietly, she looked away once again, she was staring down at her hands, picking at her fingernails.

"Sara, we talked about this…"

"No, we didn't…" she unclipped her seatbelt suddenly, "I talked about it – I've tried to talk about it many times. You're the one who snubs every discussion. You practically snuff them out like a candle."

Gil hated to admit even to himself that she was right. He had done exactly that. Any time she wanted to try and talk about what their mutual feelings were, he had a tendency to change the subject, or drop it completely.

"Last night, I almost thought things were different," Sara said, "I had thought…maybe…just maybe, if I could get you away from work, and get you to stop talking about work, and stop thinking about work, then maybe you'd start to realise there's more to life," she confessed without even glancing back at him.

Gil blinked at her, he didn't like where this conversation was about to go. He wanted to get out and run, he wanted to scream to drown out her voice. He wanted to pretend he didn't hear her words as he knew they were coming.

"Last night, I thought for a moment, I could see work beginning to drain out of you and life beginning to sink in," her voice was full of emotion, her eyes were searching the space as if looking for something, as if she were seeing the words on a sheet of paper rather than drawing them out of thin air,

"for the first time, I believed almost for one split second that you were actually giving in," she added, her voice now distant.

Gil watched her, feeling helpless to do much else. Her hands were trembling, her skin shimmered from perspiration, her eyes in this darkness were like two inkwells, and were incredibly fevered.

_Giving in_? _What is she talking about_? Gil felt a sudden rush of horror sweep over him.

Sara finally turned back to him, "And then…tonight, when I told you I didn't remember how I got home…you looked…relieved…" she swallowed, "relieved…" she said again, "like if I remembered you'd be mortified…like it would be a living nightmare…"

He was speechless, and now realising how incredibly foolish he'd been to believe she wouldn't remember. At the same time, he was incredibly curious to understand, with so much alcohol in her system how had she been able to remember anything at all? He wished there was a button on his dashboard that would make him shrink into nothingness just so he could escape how utterly humiliated he was beginning to feel.

"You were…relieved," she said again.

Gil remained silent, he looked away from her, and stared at the steering wheel, his mouth was open, but he couldn't seem to find any words whatsoever to respond with. She was right. He had been relieved when he'd thought she didn't remember, and now, he was mortified that he knew she did.

"I might have been so drunk I could barely stand straight, but I remember so vividly…" she was talking through gritted teeth now, "how when you leaned close and talked into my ear about how we could go back to my apartment – together – that I felt like I'd just won the emotional lottery. I'd never been so blissfully happy before as I was right then."

He was torn between the two halves of himself. His head screamed that he needed to get out of this situation, and his heart screamed to be in it – because it was something. It was an emotional exchange, and it could go further if only he'd say the right words – or if only he could actually say anything at all.

He turned back to her again, his expression guilty. He wasn't sure how to react to any of this anymore, so he tried to remain indifferent.

"I can still remember the tingles I felt when I moved over to unbutton your shirt in the cab and you told me I had to wait. I remember feeling like a teenager again as I held your hand…your fingers twined with mine," she swallowed.

Gil swallowed too – swallowed the emotion back before it could surface, he was afraid if it did he might speak his true feelings.

"I remember the rapture I felt when I kissed your throat…I know even you had to have felt something then…"

_I did_, Gil thought dejectedly. _I really did_. _If only I had the guts to tell her that_.

Sara opened the door of the car and climbed out, "it wasn't even about the fact that I thought we might have sex that made me accept when you suggested we go back to my place. It wasn't about that at all…it was about the thought that maybe I'd wake up, and you'd just be there, and that from that moment on every time I did wake up you'd be there," her eyes were glistening with tears, but were full of a dangerous ferocity and passion he'd never seen before.

Gil tried to speak, but couldn't get anything out. He was tongue tied, and helpless. His heart

"But I woke up alone…and that reminded me…of how stupid I had been – to believe for one minute that you'd actually been brave enough to make a decision that didn't involve hiding behind a microscope!" she cried at him, her voice full of fury, "I felt so incredibly foolish! I would have given you anything last night. Anything – and you knew it. And it was just a stupid game to you, wasn't it? You played it to get me out of there because you didn't want guilt of leaving me there – which is so typically you. You didn't want to 'feel' at all. But cruelly you let me feel even more for you than I usually let myself and you were counting on me not remembering. But I do, Grissom. I do."

Gil finally found words within himself, and they were just full of empty excuse. "I just wanted to get you home safe, that was all. I was just…a victim of choices…bad choices…but…I never meant to hurt you…"

"Well you did," she slammed the door, but it merely gave the same lifeless thud it always did.

Sara had left him sitting in the parking lot alone, she disappeared into her building, the buildings back entrance door slammed shut behind her.

Gil sighed and looked down at the steering wheel again, knowing right then how much he had really truly messed everything up with one bad decision. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to apologise for this, and he wasn't sure she'd ever be able to forgive him, either.

Sighing, he started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Her words kept running through his head over and over again.

'_You let me feel even more for you than I usually let myself'_.

'_You were counting on me not remembering'._

'_But I do, Grissom, I do'._


	4. Chapter 4: Valentine Daze

**Chapter 4**

**Valentine Daze**

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"I got this in the mail this morning," Catherine Willows said as she sat down at the table in the common room just before the start of the graveyard shift. She dropped a red envelope on the table, her expression was somewhat amused.

Gil gazed down envelope with its pattern of embossed red hearts. Catherine's name had been written in black ink in the most detailed calligraphy. There was no stamp upon it, so it had been hand delivered.

All these clues meant only one horrible thing.

As if to confirm his theory, Gil glanced towards the calendar on the wall, and seen a large 14 circled in a red lipstick heart.

"It's Valentines Day," Gil rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I forgot, Mr. Grissom hates Valentines Day," Catherine grinned, she gazed absently into her coffee – she'd brought Starbucks in with her.

"I don't 'hate' Valentines Day," Gil responded after a moment, "I just don't see what all the fuss is. People pin their whole romantic futures on this day – they pin their whole love life on whether they get one piece of cardboard with 'from guess who' written in phoney handwriting, or not."

Catherine merely laughed, "said the man who never gets Valentines from anyone," she glanced over at him. Gil was doing the crossword in today's newspaper. He looked as if he couldn't care less at her comment. She ignored his indifference and opened the envelope and slipped the card out, "tell me who you think sent this," she placed the card in front of him.

Gil sighed and picked the card up, he gazed at the cartoon on the front, "be my sex kitten," he read off the card, and somehow he couldn't even find it in him to laugh. He opened the card and looked for a signature, "oh, big surprise, it's from 'guess who'," he said, he rolled his eyes again.

"I thought it was cute," Catherine admitted, she gave a shrug.

"Unfortunately I don't know who might have sent it," Gil responded with a nonchalant shrug.

"In that case, I think I'm going to dust it for prints," she said, "I want to know who sent it. I know it's gotta be a joke, but I just gotta know," she smirked.

Gil tried to focus on his crossword, even the crossword was annoying him, it having several Valentines Day clues. All he wanted to do was forget about romance today.

"Got any plans for Valentines day?" Catherine asked, she sipped her coffee nonchalantly, she gazed over the rim of the cup at him.

"Apart from working, no," Gil responded, "and I really couldn't care less that I don't have any plans either. You know that all this is a typical 'Hallmark' commercialised holiday. Its just another useless day for people to spend money on useless little presents for each other. There's nothing special about it," he stated in a cold matter-of-fact tone.

"Nothing special?" Catherine asked, she shook her head, "that's not true. It's the one day of the year, we can be silly and romantic and tell someone else we want to be silly and romantic with them. It's the one day a year where you can get away with telling someone – albeit anonymously – that you're completely stoked for them – without that person thinking they have a stalker on their hands!"

_Typical response for a woman_, thought Gil as he pushed the newspaper away from him feeling very dejected.

"You've been single too long," Catherine shook her head at him, "if you were in love with someone, you wouldn't feel that way."

Gil thought immediately of Sara Sidle, but he tried to ignore the emotions that welled up inside of him every time he did think of her, "If I were 'in love' with someone, I wouldn't have a certain day in February dictate to me when I should be romantic towards her," Gil responded very quickly, he deliberately turned away from her. Catherine knew him too well, and he was afraid that even now if she should look into his eyes for a mere second, she'd be able to single out the conflict that had begun to go on in his mind between the two halves of him, one that wanted Sara, and the other that didn't.

"Gil, one of these days—" Catherine began in a rather firm and straightforward way, but before she could finish her thoughts, Sara Sidle strode into the office, and Catherine immediately closed her mouth.

Gil started to wonder if whatever Catherine was about to say had anything to do with Sara at all – why else should she suddenly clam up.

"Hi," Sara said quietly, she took a seat at the table, putting her hands together, she looked at both of them. "Sorry I'm late," she said to Gil, she gestured to the clock, she was two minutes late. "Neighbour had to drop me off, my car has been screwed all week."

"Still haven't got a new battery?" Catherine asked.

"I haven't had the chance, I sleep all day and work all night," Sara reminded. "And these 'all night garages' charge a bomb for their batteries and they're usually just second hand. I'm going to wait until I get a whole afternoon off – then I can look around and get a decent one that's brand new," she shrugged, "Anyway, did I interrupt something? Sounded like you were about to say something before I walked in," Sara admitted, although rather coldly, as if she thought Catherine might have been trying to hide a secret – or perhaps had been talking behind her back.

Gil glanced over to Sara briefly. Their work relationship had been very strained as of recent all because of events that had happened two weeks previously. He had been hoping over the past two weeks that the tension would die down, but he'd had no such luck in that.

Being civil at work was easy, but it was just barely civil and anytime that Gil had found himself alone with Sara at work, she'd been very aloof towards him and wouldn't meet his eyes when he looked at her. He was beginning to grow rather frustrated with it, but he hadn't been able to tell her so as of yet.

Catherine had the knack of picking up on the tension, Gil saw her eyes dart from left to right, and the look of realisation cross her face. She said nothing though, she simply folded her arms over her stomach, and glanced down at the card on the table, pretending it was more interesting than the look that Gil was giving Sara at this moment.

Sara was going through her bag, she pulled out a packet of Nicorette gum and put it on the table, and placed her bag on the floor by her feet. She opened the box, and took out a piece.

Gil watched her with absurd fascination.

"So…" Catherine said, deciding to cut the awkward silence, the tension felt so infinitely thick it might have blunted a knife. "Sara…get any Valentines?"

Sara threw Catherine a look that said it all, really, but she spoke, "no."

Gil was surprised at this. Sara was a beautiful woman, and had many admirers in the police department, that it seemed almost unnatural she hadn't received any.

Catherine gave an expression that really said 'sorry I even asked', she sipped her coffee, and looked away. "Where are the others?" she asked of Gil.

"Nick and Warrick are at a basketball game, I believe it's just us three on tonight. Short staffed as we are, I'm sure we'll do just fine," Gil responded.

"So…what are we doing?" Catherine asked, she pushed her hair back from her face.

"You two can work together – big heist at the MGM."

"Joy," Catherine commented and Sara snorted as if to agree.

Gil felt their pain, robberies were the most boring cases to deal with in his opinion, barely anything about them fascinated him anymore. "I know, I know," he nodded, deciding to agree, "But it's high priority, so…I need you both on it," he promised himself he'd make it up to them – later.

Sara and Catherine stood up, "Fine…" Catherine said, "Let's go."

Gil caught Sara giving him an almost forlorn glance, then she turned quickly away when she noticed he was looking right back at her. Gil watched the two women leave, and he shook his head at himself. Snap out of it, stop mooning over her, Gil. It's not going to work.

The rest of the night Gil found himself so busy he momentarily forgot about Valentines Day – or his feelings for Sara – that was until he had to stop in to see Greg Sanders in the lab. Gil immediately forgot the reason he was there the minute he saw Greg was sitting doodling on a piece of folded card, he'd drawn several rather childish looking love hearts.

"What is this?" Gil asked, he pointed to the piece of paper.

"Uh, nothing," Greg said, his cheeks flushed instantly and he pushed it under a pile of DNA printouts.

Gil moved over swiftly, and retrieved the piece of card from under the printouts, "a homemade card?" He asked, raising an eyebrow, "for…?"

"Sara," Greg responded, his eyes fell to the desk, he looked sheepish, and ever so boyish, that Gil was finding it hard to be mad at him. "I was passing by the common room and I heard Sara say she didn't get any," he confessed, he traced an invisible pattern on the desk with his index finger. "So…"

"So you thought you'd make her one?" Gil raised an eyebrow.

"I know it's not gonna score me any points whatsoever with her, she's way out of my league, but…I just thought, hey, she'll never know who it's from and…maybe it'd cheer her up. She's been so…down in the dumps this last few weeks. I don't know what's eatin' at her, but…y'know, I thought I could maybe just temporarily make her feel better."

Gil couldn't be angry at Greg anymore, he sighed, "do it on your break, okay?" he asked quietly.

"Okay," Greg nodded, beginning to look relieved. "Don't you find it weird?"

"Don't I find what weird?" Gil asked, he took a seat beside Greg at the desk, and he looked at the young man in curiosity.

"How…someone…as great as her, could be so…single?" Greg asked. "It's like she's saving herself or something…" he admitted. "Waiting for someone, maybe…I dunno, Mr Right, who knows?" Greg shrugged, he yanked off the latex gloves he'd been wearing.

Gil lost himself in his thought for a moment. _It's funny how perceptive this kid can be…Could it be he's right? Could it be that she's just…waiting…waiting for …me maybe_?

He shook himself out of his thoughts.

No, that's…preposterous. Why would I think that? Thinking such a stupid thing is only ego massage, why should I be full of myself. She could have any guy she wanted – why would she save herself for me?

"Not that it has any relevance," Gil said, and cleared his throat just a little, he let his elbow rest on the desk, and he propped his chin upon his fist, "but who do you see as 'Mr Right' for Sara?" he used his free hand to pick up a DNA printout, and he let his eyes scan over it, pretending to be more interested in work than what Greg thought.

Greg didn't answer for some moments, and Gil eventually felt he had to speak again.

"Sorry, that's probably a hard one to answer," he put the printout down.

"No, it's not that," Greg admitted, "I've thought about it like, a hundred times, I think…" he confessed, "but the weird thing is, the only guy I can peg as her so-called 'Mr Right'…is probably the last person you'd think," his eyes fell to the desk. A pencil was lying there, and he pushed it with his middle finger so that it rolled – stopping a mere centimetre before falling off the desk completely.

"Tell me…" Gil said, he picked up the pencil Greg had just rolled over, and he put it in an official LVDP cup that was sitting there on the desk – filled with several other assorted pencils and pens.

"Well…Sara is a workaholic, so anyone she gets together with has gotta understand how important her work is to her, and he's gotta feel the same…he's gotta be…I don't know…passionate about his work too." Greg shrugged, his eyes never left the desk, he looked crestfallen, as if with every word he was realising more and more that his feelings for Sara might never amount to anything other than a crush.

"Oh?" Gil asked.

"He's the kind of guy who gets excited about the tiniest things at work, y'know, totally amazed by tiny simple little things – things that she'd find fascinating too…" Greg added, rolling his eyes. "And since…y'know, she works weird hours, he's gotta be someone as much of a night owl as she is – someone who really prefers the night to the daytime," Greg added, he looked down at his idle hands, "he has to be someone she trusts, someone she can talk to, someone she wouldn't be afraid to cry in front of. Someone she respects and admires, but someone she can also just…stand up to. He's sincere, y'know, no bullshit. He doesn't do mean things or look out for his own ass – he spends more time worrying about everyone else than himself."

Gil couldn't help but stare at Greg in wonderment. Did this man actually exist, or was he made up completely?

"He's gotta be someone who's interesting, someone who knows a hundred thousand fascinating little things – someone who can really talk to her about any subject without running out of things to say…" Greg added.

Gil wondered how much more wonderful this imaginary 'Mr Right' could be.

"He's someone who doesn't…take pride in being right, because it's not about 'being right' that counts to him. He's also someone that can actually admit he's wrong occasionally. He can admit he's made mistakes, he can admit he's done something stupid and take full responsibility for it," Greg drew in a breath, "this guy is someone who appreciates her for how brilliant she is - her mind, her intelligence, her passion, her courage…"

_He has thought about this a lot_, thought Gil, he stared even harder at Greg.

"He's an enigma to almost everyone who knows him – and Sara likes that, because you know our Sara…she loves a mystery…" Greg stopped, the sound of the door opening caught him off guard. Catherine was there, leaning into the room. "Hey," Greg brightened up, as if he didn't like the thought of Catherine seeing him so glum.

"Did you get to work on that swab I sent over two hours ago?" Catherine asked, she tucked her hair behind her ear.

Greg scratched the back of his neck, "Yeah, that black stuff, it was paint, diluted with turpentine," he responded, "here…" he said, he grabbed a printout from another section of the desk and rolled his chair over to the door to hand her it. "Everything you need to know is right there.

"Thanks," Catherine said absently, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Gil watched Catherine disappear through the windows, and then he turned back to Greg, "so…who is this guy?" he asked, he smirked. He was waiting for Greg to mention some fictional character from a famous book, or movie, or television programme. Instead Greg's eyes squinted slightly and he looked at Gil as if in complete disbelief.

"You mean you don't know?" Greg asked, his voice incredulous.

"Uh…no…" Gil said, he raised an eyebrow.

Greg gave a snort that was half between scoff and laugh, "and you're meant to be the most perceptive and observant guy in here…" was all he replied to this and he stood up, grabbing his printouts, he opened a folder and began to add them into it.

Gil blinked, "did I miss something?"

"Only that Sara's 'Mr Right' can only really match up to one person in this building…" Greg forced a smile, and it was a rather wry one at that, "only one person in this room for that matter. And sadly, it isn't me."

Gil was shaking when he left the lab, however hard he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop tingling. What Greg had said had been like being cornered and attacked, being chained and left to die trembling in the cold. He felt exposed and vulnerable.

What Greg had said – all those things he'd said the man Sara's 'Mr Right' would need to be – seemed to be true. But he'd never imagined he was all those things. Even as Greg had listed each thing off, Gil had never at any point thought to himself 'that's me'.

So when Greg had finally come out with his theory that the only person in the whole world – or was it only in the police department? – good enough for Sara Sidle was in fact Gil Grissom himself, it had come as a shock.

Gil couldn't work properly after this. He still felt exposed, in fact, he was sure where his chest was, there might be an ugly gaping wound laying open with a path right to his raw heart.

It was hard enough loving Sara and having to keep his distance from her. But it was harder being told that you might be that other persons soul mate, that out of so many others, he was the only person who was 'right' enough for her. This information felt like it was physically hurting him as well as emotionally.

He would have rather gone through the rest of his life believing he and Sara were a very bad match and that any relationship would be pointless and wouldn't work. He could have gone a lifetime without knowing that he and Sara were perfect for each other.

Gil sat his desk idle, a pen poised in his hand. He had so much paperwork to do, but couldn't focus on any of it. Greg's words kept replaying in his head like a broken record. Every little detail of that discussion, Gil knew, would haunt him for the rest of his life.

_No, it won't haunt you_, Gil decided. _Not if you just do something about it instead of sitting like a butterfly caught in a spider web_. _If you don't, it probably will haunt you though, because you're always going to be wondering. And even if you forget about it, something will eventually come back and bite you in the ass to make you remember it all over again_.

Gil began to wonder if maybe his own opinion about being with Sara was biased because it was in his own favour. _I could be telling myself I'm wrong for her because I wanted to be wrong for her. I could just be convincing myself it won't go anywhere because I don't want all that heartache and misery that go along with relationships_, he thought.

Greg's opinion though…that can't be biased, he realised. Greg couldn't benefit from his own opinion, and therefore, that was unbiased, and more reliable.

Gil shook his head. The kid nailed it, he thought. He actually nailed it on the head. He actually took time and thought long and hard about – and somehow he managed to connect me and Sara in his theory without ever knowing how me and Sara feel about each other.

The thought was staggering.

"Grissom…"

Gil blinked, he'd left his office door open, and Sara was standing there, her hand against the threshold. She had her jacket on, and she was looking at him in a somewhat curious way.

"Your shift ended half an hour ago," Sara said, she sounded tired, and empty.

Gil glanced quickly towards the clock on his desk. Sara was right. He'd been so lost in his thoughts that time had flown so quickly he'd failed to notice he should have been home by now. "Oh…" he said, he quickly tidied away the papers on his desk.

"You looked a million miles away just then," Sara said. It was the first time her voice had softened towards him in two whole weeks – it no longer held the coldness it had been full of since the night she'd yelled at him in his car. Gil was beginning to wonder now if she had finally begun to cool down.

"I was," he confessed, although this was as much as he was willing to admit, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and pulled it on, headed towards the door, "you should be home by now…" Gil pointed out. She, too, should have finished her shift half an hour ago.

"I got held up in the interrogation room, I thought we'd better keep it going while we could – wrapping it up just because my shift finished would mean compromising the whole investigation and possibly give the suspect several hours to come up with a new story," Sara explained.

Gil nodded, he stepped over to the door, he hit the light switch, drowning the office in thick blackness. Sara stood merely a foot apart from him, and her eyes searched his momentarily.

Already, Gil could feel the familiar forlorn emotions surfacing – and it reminded him of the raw emotional wound Greg had left him with by telling him that he – Gil Grissom – was Sara's 'Mr Right'. Not wanting to expose that gaping emotional wound to Sara, he turned from her, stepped out into the hall, shut the office door and locked it securely.

"Can…I have a ride home?" Sara asked quietly, she glanced down to her feet awkwardly.

Gil turned to her, "walked to work?" he shoved the keys in his jacket pocket. _Has she been drinking again_? He asked himself in thought, he felt the immediate concern that always arose just after he asked himself that question. Since she'd been pulled over for drinking and driving – and had just barely managed to escape with a warning – she had been driving to work less and less, and it always left Gil wondering just how much she did drink on a regular basis.

"A neighbour dropped me off. My car has been sitting in the parking lot outside my building all week – the battery died and I haven't had a chance to shop for a new one," she replied, her tone indifferent and monotone.

_Okay, now that I think about it, I think I heard her mention it to Cath earlier_, Gil suddenly realised. _Why must I keep jumping to this drinking conclusion_?

Sara waited for a reply to her question, but did not look at him. Gil found himself trying to fathom if it would be a good idea to get into a car with her again or not. Especially after all they'd been through in the past month. He wasn't sure if he was emotionally strong enough should any other outbursts occur.

_I can't let her walk home, look at her, she's exhausted. Do I really want her walking home in such a tired state – what if she crossed the street and failed to notice a truck hurtling down the road_? Gil hated himself for thinking so morbidly, he pulled himself out of the reverie of visions that thought had onslaught him with. "Of course you can have a ride home."

They were silent as they left the building together, and they climbed into Gil's SUV barely even glancing at each other. Gil switched the radio on immediately after starting the car, to free them both of an awkward silence. He'd left the radio on a 24 hour news station. A newsreader was prattling on about a celebrity engagement that had been publicly announced the previous morning – a rock star had proposed to his actress girlfriend for Valentines Day. Gil didn't recognise either celebrity names, and he didn't care either.

"Ugh. More stupid Valentines Day propaganda," Sara suddenly uttered, "they make it sound romantic – they're both has-beens who're just announcing their engagement for publicity to boost their own stupid little careers," she added.

"Probably," Gil confessed, he stopped at a red light. "So…you hate Valentines Day too, then?" he asked.

"I just think it's…stupid…" Sara said, "it's not about love or meaning, it's about commercialism."

"I agree," Gil seconded that.

"It's the one day of the year that couples celebrate and seem to glory in making anyone who's single feel like a complete loser," Sara grumbled.

Gil had to smile at that. She sounded bitter, but she reminded him somewhat of himself at that moment. He'd thought the same thing on more than one occasion in the last twenty-four hours.

"I got a card," Sara finally admitted.

"Oh?" Gil asked, he already knew this, he knew all about it.

"It was slipped into my locker," Sara added, "I know who it was from. It had his fingerprints on it."

Gil was greatly amused by the fact that she'd fingerprinted a homemade card – and probably ruined it altogether just to find out who sent it. He was going to guess Catherine had something to do with that idea.

"Trust the guy to make you a card end up covering it with his own trace evidence," Gil responded with a smile. "A little careless, I know."

Sara's head snapped to the side to look at him, "I never said it was a 'homemade' card."

"Oh…" Gil realised. Had he just given Greg's secret away? Had he just admitted he'd been there when Greg had made the card…and did it matter, since she'd obviously found Greg's fingerprints all over it anyway. "At least you got one," Gil then said matter-of-factly. "I don't think, in all of my forty-nine years on this planet that I've ever actually had a Valentine."

"Shocker," Sara responded, but she had a slight smile playing on her lips.

"I'm not a Valentines Day kind of guy," Gil admitted, "I'm more of a…" he paused, looking for the words.

"Finding the romantic lives of bugs more fascinating kind of guy," Sara finished for him.

"Yeah, I guess I am," Gil smirked. The red light changed to green, and they were off on their journey again. He found it strange, now how he and Sara were suddenly talking again after having fallen out over his bad choices barely two weeks ago. He wondered if this was just another sign that Greg might be right about their being made for each other. But Gil guessed that the hostility or emotion in Sara had probably just burned itself out.

He found himself very suddenly absurdly wishing he could send her a dozen red roses – just to see if her views on Valentines Day would suddenly swing in a different direction.

_Uh oh, you're doing it again. You don't want to test a theory about her hatred of Valentines day being based on her lack of received gifts. You just want to send her flowers because you want to see her face light up when she sees the card says they're from you._ Gil forced the thought out of his mind, and tried to focus on driving.

"I guess I shouldn't complain about Valentines day too much…since I did get a card. Even if it was homemade and coloured in like it was done by a six year old," she added with an amused grin.

"It was a little childish looking, I'll admit," Gil shrugged. "But it's the thought that counts, right?" he asked as he parked the car in the residential lot behind her building.

"Of course it is," she said, and she reached over and touched his arm tenderly in a way that caught him by surprise. He looked down at her hand the tips of her fingers lightly on the soft suede of his sleeve. "And…it surprised me…" she said.

Gil raised his eyes to glance over at her. He didn't understand what she meant. Why was she all of a sudden so tender towards him after he'd made such a horrible mistake two weeks before? "Why…did it surprise you?"

"Because the thought was in it…" Sara confessed, her eyes softened. "I didn't think you'd ever...I mean…I just didn't figure you'd do something like that, especially since…you seem to go all speechless any time I try to talk about 'us' with you…"

_Wait a minute, what is she saying_? Gil panicked. _Does she think that I sent the card_? He tried to replay the events of today through his mind, and bits of pieces only seemed to stand out. And then he realised something he'd done earlier that day. When he'd come into the lab, Greg had been doodling on the card – but he had been wearing latex gloves. Gil remembered watching him taking them off.

Gil also now remembered having picked up the card himself – with his bare hands. Picking up the card would leave his own fingerprints on the card.

_Oh…my…God_.

The words were slow and clear in his head. They repeated themselves several times. How could this misunderstanding occur? All he'd done was touch a silly piece of card. He would have never thought that somehow, he could have accidentally altered the whole perception of who'd given the card just by a simple touch.

And now, he had the helpless realisation that now, he had to answer to it. She was waiting for him to make some kind of reference to the card she thought he'd sent her.

There were two choices he felt were most likely to work in this situation.

He could tell her that he made the card only to cheer her up because he felt bad she didn't receive any from anyone. It might be a slightly bad way to deal with the situation – because first it would be a lie, and second, it might make her feel like he was pitying her.

Of course, there was always the truth. _Greg made the card, I caught him making it, he hid it under a pile of printouts but I found it and picked it up_. It was the honest truth, but he could see how even saying it might sound like a lie. It might even provoke her into being more angry with him than she had been before. It might make her assume he was playing games with her even more than she'd thought he was before.

A third option crossed his mind, by far, it felt like the worst of all the thoughts he'd had today.

_I could tell her I made the card, I could tell her I put it in her locker, I could even tell her that I had thought for two weeks about what she'd said and this card was my way of saying I was sorry, and I was ready to 'give in' in that way that she wanted me to_…_this…this whole thing would be an opportunity for me to be with her without having to ever properly initiate everything and end up all tongue-tied trying to do so._

There was something very wrong about that third option, he felt. The fact that it was a complete fabrication bothered him, and that he'd be taking credit for someone else's idea entirely bothered him even more.

But then, Greg had said 'she'll never know who' its from'. It made sense now why the design Greg had doodled was so childish instead of something much more elaborate which Gil felt he was more than capable of. It made sense now why Greg had worn latex gloves while he in the process of making it – he had never intended for her to find out at all. Not even to hint that it had been from him in the first place. The card had merely been meant to make Sara temporarily happy.

_So…if I take credit for the card, would Greg ever actually know_? Gil wondered. The whole thought left him feeling rather unethical, and like a child considering cheating for a school exam.

He looked at Sara. How could he deny the card was from him and have her believe it without having her lose her temper with him again? How could he take credit for it without feeling guilty? Both solutions had a bad side. There was no way to win.

_There's only one thing to do, Gil_. _You have to tell her that she's gotten the wrong end of the stick somehow. _

Sara was looking at him and smiling curiously, waiting for him to say something, he'd been silent for so long now.

_She looks so happy, though. How can I tell her the card isn't from me when the reason she's happy is that she thinks it is_? _Come on, you have to tell her the truth. How mad can she get? It's a piece of cardboard with badly drawn hearts on it. I'm sure she'd appreciate the honesty rather than the lie_…

"I…uh…" Gil tried to speak.

"I'm sorry…about how I acted two weeks ago…" Sara said, she reached over to touch his cheek but he caught her hand.

"The card isn't from me, it's from Greg," Gil blurted, his eyes wide, his mouth hung open to take a very large breath to calm himself before what he felt was probably going to be the worst argument he'd ever had with Sara yet.

"What?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Greg made it…I…I just happened to touch it accidentally…" he tried to explain.

Sara's eyes never left him, her hand remained grasped in his own. Gil wished he'd thought to grab the other hand just in case she'd thought to lash out and slap him for letting her go further in believing it was from him instead of nipping it in the bud straight away. He supposed he could deserve that for having left it this long.

She let out a half laugh – almost nervously. "I guess I should have known…" she said then, her voice had a quiver underlying, "I should have known that you'd have never had the balls to do anything like that…I should have known," she chided herself. He could already see the expression of self-loathing in her eyes that she'd fallen for it – and he could already feel the heat rising in his cheeks in anger.

_What does she mean I'd never have the balls to do anything like that_? _I've done plenty of wild thing things in my life – things wilder than posting a stupid piece of cardboard with an anonymous love message into a woman's locker_.

Maybe it was because he felt her comment was such a stab to his masculinity that he decided right then he wasn't going to sit back anymore and just play denial with her any longer. That he just wasn't going to sit speechless and idle and let her think that he was too weak to even tell anyone how he felt about anything - too scared to take any chances emotionally.

Gil had never felt such a challenge before as he did right then at that moment, and he was never one to withdraw from any challenge – even when the stakes were high.

He surprised himself just then, acting on impulse rather than sitting weighing out the pros and cons in his head first like he tended to do frequently. His movement was fast, reflexive, and very unlike him. He put his hand behind her neck and drew her in quickly. He pressed his mouth to hers in a desperate kiss that he felt he'd waited far too long to feel.

Sara never had a chance to react before he did so – he knew from the way she froze up that it was what she had least expected. It was what he had least expected to. He'd never let his impulses control him like this before.

Gil was violently shaking – he could feel those trembles through every nerve ending in his body, even to his lips. He didn't understand what was causing it…those trembles might have been from anger, lust, love or fear – or perhaps it was a culmination of all four, resulting in a powerful supernova of emotions.

He didn't care.

It wasn't until that moment, with his lips still hard against hers, that he realised he was more alive then than he'd ever been before.

However…it wasn't until he moved back, finally out of breath, that he realised didn't know what to do next.


	5. Chapter 5: Kiss of Life

**Chapter 5**

**Kiss of Life**

****

* * *

When Gil Grissom had kissed Sara Sidle it had been on sheer impulse, without thought, without the consideration of consequence. Everything inside of him had just seemed to snap and the emotion had finally broken free. The only way he could explain what he'd done was that it had been the euphoria of an overdose on the most potent of emotion that had been screaming to surface for some time now. All that emotion had pushed him until his body had reacted before his mind had any chance to reflect what might happen next. 

Pulling back from Sara, breathless and heated, three important realisations came to him one after the other, like three rather large painful bricks in the face.

One: this had been some kind of horrible mistake – a mistake he'd enjoyed but a mistake nonetheless. This one action was what he decided to refer to as having opened a whole new can of worms.

Two: He had no response to follow his own actions. What now? How was he supposed to explain what he'd just done? Should he kiss her again? Should he apologise for having kissed her so suddenly? Or should he wait to see what Sara's response would be before taking any action at all?

Three: He was incredibly aware of how alive it had made him feel to kiss her. It felt as twenty-five years of his life melted away that instant. As if kissing her had been like the kiss of life, bringing him to life again.

_What now though, Gil_? He asked himself as he stared at Sara, her eyes were on his and she looked as lost for words as he felt.

_Say something, and say it fast_, he thought at himself wildly, he'd already begun to choke on his words. "I…uh…" he began, but immediately forgetting everything he wanted to say – forgetting everything he'd always wanted to say.

Sara's face was a roadmap of confusion. He could see the disbelief building on her face. Her mouth hung open in the same way it had the second his lips had left hers, her expression almost seemed vacant.

Gil had assumed at first she might be pleased. She'd wanted him to do something, wanted him to give in, hadn't he just done that? But instead of being happy, he knew now that she was doing what he'd have done if he were in her shoes – analysing what this had meant.

_But what does it mean_? Gil thought_. I know it means that nothing will be the same anymore. I've gone a step too far and now I have to face up to the consequences. Does this mean that now I'm obligated into a relationship_? He winced at his thoughts_. No, wait, you're getting too far ahead of yourself. It was a kiss, nothing more. You've kissed before, you've made love before, and never felt obligated. Why start now_?

Sara was sitting anticipating for him to do something, she gave him a pleading expression as if to beg him to be the first to say something.

"Sara…" he finally said, he turned away and sighed, the words in his head were so eloquent, but by the time they were ready to progress to his mouth, they seemed to melt like tiny sprinkles of ice on a hot tongue. How could he make her understand what was going on in his head?

How could he tell her that he loved her, he wanted to be with her, but at the same time didn't?

This is going nowhere, he thought. I have to say something, and I have to say it now.

Sara sighed too, and opened the car door to step out. She had already noticed the expression of doubt on his face as he'd turned away. She barely had one foot out when Gil finally managed to get out a sentence.

"I didn't think that was going to happen…"

_Smooth, Gil, real smooth. She's probably looking for something along the lines of romantic poetry…and what do you say? 'I didn't think that was going to happen'._

Sara paused, she looked at him, and her face was caught somewhere between frustration and disbelief.

_You're losing her_, Gil thought_. She's two seconds away from getting out and slamming the door – probably wishing your head was directly in its way so she can hear the thud it'll make when it hits your thick useless skull._

"What I mean is…" he forced himself to go on, "is…I didn't know I'd do that…I didn't think I'd just…" he trailed off, searching for an explanation. He was stammering now, "uh…I mean…" he looked to the ceiling of the car, wishing there was a script taped up there that he could read from.

Sara shook her head, "Save it."

"What I mean to say…" he prattled on nervously, he desperately searched his mind for the right thing to say, trying to grasp the strings of imaginary conversation he'd had with her in his mind – from the hundreds of times he'd fantasized how he would tell her he loved her. "Is that…I…"

Sara's expression was impatient now, her eyes squinting.

"Is that…" he swore mentally, and he finally said, "I hadn't planned on that…"

She was growing even more weary of this conversation, and she slid out of the car further.

_No…you can't let her walk out now. You're here, you've finally done something to possibly initiate something. You can't just let it all drop now and have her even more mad at you than she was to begin with, you have to do something, you have to say something. You can't give up now._

"This…thing…that's happened…" he swallowed, "the dictionary refers to it as…a sudden wish…or urge….that prompts an unpremeditated act or feeling…" he chewed the inside of his cheek looking at her. "Impulse."

_This is sounding less romantic by the minute,_ he despaired. _I used to be so much better at this when I was younger. _

"Impulse?" she finally asked, her face was now unreadable.

"Yes," Gil replied quietly.

_How did I get myself in this situation? Why did I have to rise to the challenge? God, I want to just be swallowed up by a big black hole right now_.

Gil was incredibly torn. It felt as if there were three people in his head all telling him to do different things. Love Sara. Don't love Sara. Walk away from Sara without doing either.

_This is ridiculous_, he thought.

"So is that it?" Sara asked, sounding rather crestfallen. "You got the impulse out of your system so now you're set."

"No…that's not it at all…" he stammered, his eyes fell to the dashboard.

"Then what?" she demanded.

"I don't know!" he suddenly burst.

Sara blinked in response to the tone in his voice, she sat straight, her lips pursed.

He drew his breath and softened his tone, "I'm not good at this."

"Tell me about it," Sara commented dully, he wasn't sure if she was still going to get out of the car.

Gil put both his hands on the steering wheel just to keep them from feeling idle, so that he wouldn't wildly gesture with confusion as he spoke, "whenever it comes to this, I go blank. I am blank right now. Totally and utterly blank…"

Sara gave a sigh, "Gil…" she began in a soft tone, and she was about to speak.

Gil wasn't sure if he was angry or relieved that his cellular phone in his jacket pocket began to ring persistently right at that moment, he looked at her, helpless all the same, "excuse me," he said politely, and he answered the phone. "Grissom."

Sara got out of the car, then stood with her back against the back door, her hands in her pockets. She looked away distantly. Gil watched her as he continued with his phone conversation.

The phonecall was work related– as it always was whenever his phone rang. Someone had reported a dead body in the desert, and he was needed immediately. When he hung up, he climbed out and walked around the car, "I need to go back to work."

"What?" she asked, as if she could barely believe it, "it's the end of your shift."

"I know…they just found a body in the desert, it's so badly riddled with bugs, that I'm the only one who can to help estimate time of death," he explained, he looked down to the ground guiltily.

"So…" she trailed off, looking down at the ground too, the disappointment was very evident in her voice, her eyes were filled with emotion as she looked away, like she might cry.

Gil lifted his eyes to hers, he ached to see her so distressed, especially since he was the cause. "So…come with me."

Sara raised her head and looked at him, "why? I'm not the entomologist, you are…you don't need me out there," she pointed out.

"It's not an order, Sara," Gil said, "it's…a request. It's up to you if you want to take it or leave it."

_Why are you asking her to come with you_, he wondered at himself as he waited for her response to his request. _Are you deliberately trying to make this harder on yourself_?

Sara sighed and climbed back into the car without another word. Gil smiled, he leaned in to her side and looked at her.

"It won't take long," he promised, he felt the sudden urge to kiss her again, but held back this time, "we'll go for breakfast afterwards," he smiled again, "Then…we can talk"

"About anything?" she asked.

"Anything you like," he nodded, and he meant it. "Anything…you like," he closed her door for her and climbed in.

Gil had been right when he'd promised it wouldn't take long. The driving to the desert to reach the body destination – which had taken forty minutes in total – had taken longer than his examination of the body and the insects – his whole involvement in the case itself barely needed twenty minutes. Only an hour had passed since leaving Sara's buildings' parking lot to take off towards the desert, and they were on their way back now, crossing over barren desert on a lonely road destined back to the bustling life of Las Vegas.

"It's been some night," said Sara, she stifled a yawn. Sara's eye lids dropping, her face becoming ever so slightly blotchy with fatigue, and Gil realised how much of a selfish request he'd made in asking her to come along for the journey.

The sun was rising over the horizon, and light had begun to paint the clouds with pastel pinks and oranges. Gil felt incredibly awake, despite the part of himself that told him he needed to lie down and sleep for a very long time. He was alert, and perhaps ever so slightly apprehensive, unsure of what Sara might ask now that he'd told her they could talk about anything.

_Go along with whatever she says, make her happy. Make yourself happy for once in your goddamn life_.

Sara let her head rest against the cool glass of the car, she closed her eyes, "you okay? You haven't said anything in a while."

"I'm sorry," he cleared his throat a little.

_What does she want me to say? There isn't much to make conversation about on this desolate road here…_

"You feel like you made a mistake, didn't you?" Sara asked.

Gil went to say something, but words failed him. _God why do I get so speechless whenever she says something to me. I've fallen back on words my whole life, how can they fail me now?_

"If you do feel that way, I wish you'd just say it instead of letting me sit here not knowing what's going in your head, Grissom, because honestly…if it was a mistake, I'd rather know so I can start dealing with it."

He paused, looking quickly for a response, "It's…not that way…not at all," Gil shook his head, "I mean…I feel like I made a mistake but I don't…does that make sense to you?"

"No, not in the slightest," Sara said, sounding a little apprehensive now too.

Gil searched for the right words, and took a long time to gather any kind of sentence that would make sense to her. He pulled the car over on to the shoulder of the road. He didn't want to be driving when he said this. It seemed unfair to focus on both things at once.

"Sara…" he swallowed, "It was a mistake that I did it when I did it…not that I did it at all."

"I'm still confused…" Sara frowned a little.

"That makes two of us," Gil stared down the open road, admiring the brilliant light the sunrise was playing upon the desert.

"What is there to be so confused about?" Sara asked.

"Everything," he uttered, "What I feel, what I've done…what I'm supposed to do next, how I'm supposed to feel, what I'm supposed to know…"

Sara inhaled deeply, as to calm herself before she grew too frustrated with the situation, "what do you feel?"

"So…many…different…things," Gil said very carefully, "None of which I think I can make sense of…to anyone…least of all you."

Sara smiled somewhat sadly at him, as if she realised this was as far as her relationship with Gil Grissom was ever going to go. When Gil looked at her like that, he ached. He didn't want her to think this at all. He didn't want to be the cause of her anguish.

"Y'know…I'm not boyfriend material…" he said, "I'm nearly fifty. I'm interested in bugs more than people…I'm hopeless when it comes to relationships…the only steady relationship I've had in my life is to my job."

"And I'm supposed to care about that?" Sara asked. "We don't choose who we fall in love with, Grissom, it just happens."

That word…love. He hated hearing it come from her, it made him want to kiss her all the more. Was this her true confession? Was she finally saying in some round about way that she was in love with him? That this was more than a silly little crush – which he'd always hoped it just might be.

She'd nearly said the three words 'I love you' before – she'd been drunk and he'd managed to stop her just before it had blurted itself from her lips. But he hadn't been able to stop it this time, because he hadn't seen it coming.

"You make it sound like…I'm a high school kid looking for romance," Sara said, she looked away from him, amusement on her face. "so what if you're not 'boyfriend' material. It's not like I'm asking you to carry my books for me down the halls, or make out with me behind the bleachers or to take me to the prom…" she laughed softly, and her eyes sparkled like two onyx stones.

"Then what are you asking of me?" Gil asked, he searched her eyes for some answer, but found none there.

"I'm asking…" Sara reached over and her hand on his arm, "that you just…open up, and stop hiding."

Gil finally said what he'd been thinking for a long while, "and what if I do…and what about when you grow weary of me and look elsewhere?"

"What makes you think that'd happen?" Sara asked, a frown building again.

"Every woman who's ever gone for an older man ditches him eventually for the newer younger deluxe model," Gil responded, he shrugged, pretending as if it didn't bother him.

"I'm not every woman," Sara said, "and if I were interested in younger deluxe models I'd have gone and found one by now. But I haven't…"

_That's true_, Gil thought_. Sure, she dated that Hank guy, but nothing seemed to become of it. She's certainly shown more interest in me for a longer stretch than any other man. Why am I holding back, why don't I just take this opportunity now_?

Sara sighed, "I need some air," she admitted, and she got out of the car, she moved to the front of the SUV and stared at the sunrise. The light was playing across her beautiful face in a way that made Gil wish he had his camera on hand so that he could always keep the picture of her at that moment.

Gil stood watching her for a moment, she was standing lit up in pink and orange, her hair glistening. _Stop this madness and tell her you love her_. _Tell her. If there was ever a more perfect moment, it's now. It's sunrise, it's romantic, you're all alone in the desert with her, and you've already told her how you feel – in a roundabout confusing way_.

He got out of the car, his heart pounding in his chest like the heavy beat of a bass drum. He approached, facing her, she looked at him as he stepped forward, expectant, she looked like she wanted to say something but hesitated.

"I…" Gil began, he looked to the ground, "I just don't want to let you down...and end up hurting you…"

_We're going round in circles_, Gil thought. _This is going all wrong, all wrong. I said tell her you love her, not tell her you're afraid of hurting her_.

Sara's eyes fell to the ground just at the left of her, her head turned, "Oh," she repliedas if this had been his final word on the subject.

_Great, now she thinks you're saying a big fat useless 'no'. This isn't a no…it's a maybe? No…it's most definitely a yes…I've kissed her, I can't go back now. I can't feel like this and suddenly tell myself I have to feel nothing at all_. _Maybe if I hadn't kissed her I could just walk away from this without too much guilt or a lot of heartache, but I have kissed her. I'm emotionally involved now. I always have been._

Sara let her hand rest on the hood of the SUV, she let out a sigh, chewed her lip momentarily, she never let her eyes rise to meet Gil's.

_Look at me, Sara_, he thought. _Just look at me and see what's going in my head somehow, just look at me and know I want to say I love you but can't quite manage to say it_.

But she didn't look at him, maybe she couldn't now. Maybe he'd already hurt her too much that she couldn't look at him anymore.

He glanced to his right, to the hood of the SUV where her hand was resting. Take her hand, his thoughts screamed, take her hand, maybe then she'll at least realise you're trying to make it work.

He put his hand down on the hood inches away from her own, but never touching it. She never even seemed to notice he'd moved in the slightest.

_Come on, you've shoved your hand into the open chests of human cadavers. Surely you can take the hand of a woman_.

He slid his hand forward a little, the tips of his fingers barely a centimetre from her own.

_Go on, you can do it_, Gil thought. _Just a little further and you're there_.

Drawing a nervous breath, he pushed his hand towards hers further, until the tips of his fingers were sliding up the tops of her fingers to her knuckles.

It caught her by surprise because she turned quickly to see what he was doing, her eyes landing upon their hands.

Gil felt they must have stood like that for the longest time, looking at their hands against each others. The sun continued to rise, and the sky became infinitely bluer around them. The wind in the desert picked up a little, stirring her hair, rattling sand against the ground.

Their eyes moved to meet each others at the same time, their glances tender, she'd finally let her guard down, now he could see she didn't doubt anything at all. But she seemed timid, which he felt was definitely not her style.

_Is this what I do to her_? He wondered. _It's definitely what she does to me_.

He moved closer, at the same time she did, and their foreheads touched, she closed her eyes, letting out an almost relieved sigh. With her free arm, she gingerly slid her arm around his neck to pull him in a half embrace. An embrace Gil had waited to feel for four long years.

Nervously, he took his own free arm – the one which was not attached to the hand he'd placed upon Sara's own – and he slid it around her coyly, letting his hand rest in the centre of her back.

Sara gave an uneasy laugh, he did too, it helped relieve the tension of the moment. How odd it seemed. Twenty-four hours he'd thought he'd never be able to pluck up the courage to even ask her out, let alone anything else. Now he was standing with one arm around her, his hand on her hand, and his head resting against hers…his lips had touched hers so fiercely less than two hours ago. He wasn't ready to move into another kiss just yet.

Gil took a deep breath, swallowed, and spoke for the first time in ten minutes, "Do…you still want to go to breakfast?"


	6. Chapter 6: Get the Message

**Chapter 6**

**Get the Message**

****

* * *

"Sara, you're late," Gil Grissom didn't even need to look up from the case file he'd been studying as Sara Sidle walked into the common room. The rest of the team were already there, they'd all been discussing a case when Sara had stepped in – ten minutes later than she should have. .

Sara stepped in, her expression sheepish, she sighed, "I'm sorry. I didn't get much sleep," she said, she gave Gil a pointed look, as if to say 'and you know why', and dropped into a seat, she folded her arms casually over her chest.

Gil closed the folder he'd been gazing into, "I didn't sleep at all, since yesterday, Sara, I still made it here on time. Earlier than usual, in fact," he added nonchalantly.

This had certainly been true. After everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, Gil had found it incredibly impossible to sleep at all. After taking her to breakfast – and remaining as nonchalant about what had happened in the desert as he could – he'd driven Sara home, and then gone home himself, feeling exhaustion weigh on him, but by the time he'd finally got to bed, he'd been unable to blank his mind out for sleep.

With the new relationship he'd started with Sara in the last twenty-four hours, new concerns arose. How was he going to deal with it at work, how would it affect his job, and how could he hide the relationship from everyone – especially Catherine Willows, who was far too perceptive when it came to his personal life.

It had concerned him so much, he hadn't gotten a single wink of sleep. He'd come to work an hour early to try and clear some of the backlog of work he had.

"You must be exhausted," Sara said, sounding quite concerned.

"I wouldn't feel too worried about my well being," Gil responded sharply, he then softened his tone, "I've had enough coffee to fill a tank – I'll be just fine."

Sara was looking at him as if he might be a stranger.

"I wouldn't question it too much, Sara. He's in a grouchy enough mood as it is," Catherine mumbled under her breath, she talked behind her hand as if she determined that she wouldn't let Gil see or hear what she was saying.

"I heard that," Gil responded indifferently. "Sara, you're going to be working with Warrick – gunshot victim in an alley, he'll fill you in on the case," Gil stood up, he picked up his folders.

Sara blinked and glanced up to him as he stood, "you and me…uh…aren't teaming up today?" she asked, she brushed her hair away from her face.

Gil glanced around at everyone, then to Sara. He could already imagine the thoughts that might be crossing through their minds. "Uh…no," he said quietly. "I have reports to see to," he added. "You'll do fine," he assured, and forced a confident smile.

Sara smiled back, perhaps a little more sweetly than she'd intended, because everyone seemed to notice.

Gil cleared his throat, "and you can wipe that sickly sweet smile off your face, it won't make your tardiness disappear off your record," he added in a rather professional manner. He saw her face drop, her eyes widen just a little, he wasn't sure if he'd just humiliated her or not.

He left the common room feeling utterly appalled by having made such a statement, but it had seemed like the best way to deal with that smile she'd given him. He'd known Catherine would notice above all people. He didn't need that happening, and the best way to deal with it had been to pretend Sara's smile had been perhaps a plea for him to take the ten minute tardy off her record.

Gil could already feel the start of a lovers quarrel in the making from this.

_Maybe I have made a huge mistake thinking I could pull off having a romantic relationship with her whilst maintaining a professional relationship at work,_ he thought dully as he entered his office. _Maybe this relationship is going to be even harder than I thought it'd be_.

The next four hours passed by very quickly, and Gil buried himself as deeply as he could in his reports and other paperwork. It had been the first time in a very long time he'd managed to get through so much paperwork without growing incredibly bored and distracted. Having to concentrate on the paperwork made him forget all about Sara for the time being.

At least, until she showed up at his office door.

"Hey, you got a minute?" Sara asked, she stood with her shoulder against the threshold, her hands in her pockets.

Gil raised his eyes to the door, he had his pen poised in his hand and had just finished signing an order form for some new equipment. "Case related?" he asked hopefully, he chewed the inside of his cheek and waited for a response.

"Actually, uhm…no," Sara confessed, rather quietly as if she thought someone might overhear from the hallway.

"Shut the door, please," Gil said, waiting for her to come in and take a seat. He decided to continue working – just in case anyone should happen to look through the windows of his office and wonder what they were talking about. It was rare he gave his full attention to anyone if he was behind his desk drowning in paperwork.

Sara entered, shut the door behind her quietly, and she sat quietly on the chair opposing him on the other side of his desk. "I was just wondering…" she began, she trailed off, looking torn about how to say what she wanted to say.

"About earlier before you started your shift," Gil finished for her, he looked back down to his order form, he placed it in a pre-addressed envelope, and put it in his out tray. He kept his tone casual.

"Yes," Sara said, her tone rather hot.

He glanced quickly to her, then back to her work, she had a frown knitting on her brow. "I'm still your boss, Sara. Despite everything that happened this morning. Coming in late is still something I have to reprimand you for – I can't play favourites…" he sighed.

"But did you have to make me look like a complete idiot in front of everyone?" Sara asked, she seemed quite distressed by this.

"You were looking at me in a way that they just would have taken as too meaningful…I had to say something…I'm sorry if I was out of line, but…I had to do something…" He ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated with this already. "What would you have had me do? Kiss you goodbye in front of everyone before I left the room?"

"No," Sara sighed.

"I was protecting this," he gestured between himself and her, "it's too soon for the others to know, they'd never understand. You know that and I know that," he explained. He tapped his pen absently on the desk, "I know it sounded like I was being mean, but believe me, I was just acting in our best interests."

Sara turned away from him, her eyes falling to the floor, she seemed deep in thought. "We should have talked about this at breakfast, Gil," she finally said, sounding perhaps a little more hostile than she might have intended.

"We probably should have, but we were tired, and we felt awkward, and we needed some time to breathe after what happened out there. We have plenty of time to discuss it, Sara," he scratched the bridge of his nose absently as he spoke.

"Okay," she nodded, she was about to stand.

"But while you're here, and no one can hear us," Gil picked up another order form, he signed it casually as he spoke, "lets just put a few ground rules down to get the proverbial ball rolling, okay?"

"Such as…?" Sara asked, raising an eyebrow. There was something quite defiant on her face that Gil didn't like. She began to sit down again, looking slightly uncomfortable now.

"We maintain as much of the same relationship we've always had at work. Don't call me 'Gil'," he added. "Gil is personal – everyone else calls me Grissom. Catherine is more perceptive than any woman I've ever met, if she hears you call me Grissom, she'd immediately start to think about it, and start asking questions – you know what kinds of questions," he said very warningly.

Sara nodded, understanding.

_Wow, you're handling this really well, Gil,_ he thought_. Better than you thought you could. You're making rules, telling her how things will be – being really direct. Maybe the hard parts over, maybe it'll be easier from now on_…

"I can't deal with Cath snooping right now," he continued after pulling himself out of his reverie, he folded the order form up and slipped it into an envelope, he scrawled an address on it quickly with his biro. He went on with his reel of rules, "We don't make plans with each other inside of working hours – that way we can never be overheard and found out," he added.

"You're acting like this is some kind of affair, and you're afraid of your wife finding out," Sara mused.

"Think of it as that," Gil said, "If I was married to my work, and work is my wife, then yes, I wouldn't want 'her' finding out," he explained. "It's an affair of that the powers that be find extremely offensive to my position. Me fraternizing with a subordinate under my supervision is enough to put my job in jeopardy," he reminded.

"I know," Sara responded, she looked away, her expression guilty, "I had thought of that…"

"Another rule…" Gil said, he licked the envelope, "personal relationship and working relationship have to be completely separate."

"So… no talking about 'us' at work, and no talking about 'work' inside of 'us'?" Sara asked.

Gil gave a firm nod, he tried to keep his voice as casual as possible, "Exactly."

"Will that actually work?" Sara queried, she looked thoroughly perplexed.

"Probably not," Gil said, "I never manage to keep to the rules I set myself," he said, "I'll probably be the first to screw up," he added, and he smiled at this honest admission.

Sara smiled at this, "so…tell me…how are we going to, uh...maintain a personal relationship if the only time we see each other is at work? How will I know if I'm going to see you outside of work if I don't ask you while you're at work?" she asked.

"I've thought of that," Gil confessed, "you can send text messages to my phone," he said, "only during dinner times of course," he said, "because then technically we're not working," he added. "But try and keep those messages simple, in case anyone should happen to look over my shoulder and see."

"You want me to write them in code?" Sara asked, very amused by the concept. She knew teenagers sent such messages to each other – it seemed a very childish but interestingly fun way to communicate.

"That'd work," Gil said.

Sara stood up, she wandered over to the door, but she stopped, "Y'know…I just can't believe…that…after all this time…we've just had this conversation," she said. "I actually can't believe what you've just admitted."

"What have I admitted?" Gil took off his glasses, and stared at her curiously.

She looked down to the floor for a moment, a coy smile playing about her soft pink lips, "That we're having a personal relationship."

"Aren't we?" he asked softly.

"You're not so tongue tied as you were this morning," Sara noted.

"It comes and goes," Gil responded quickly. "I'm not as nervous now as I was then," he added more carefully. "Maybe I'm too tired to be nervous, I don't know. But I'm not."

"Apparently so," Sara said, obviously amused by this.

"You're avoiding the question," Gil stated, he kept his eyes on hers, waiting to hear her response to his question.

"Am I?" Sara asked innocently. It wasn't the answer he'd been hoping for.

"Are we in a personal relationship or aren't we?" Gil asked.

_She's making me squirm, I played games with her long enough, is she actually trying to get back at me now?_

Sara smirked, "y'know…technically, I can't answer that, that's breaking the rules. You said it yourself…can't talk about 'us' at work," she seemed thoroughly pleased with her response, her eyes were laughing.

"Sara…" he said in a warning tone, he squinted at her.

"I have to go…" Sara grinned impishly, "Warrick is waiting for me in the ballistics lab," she opened the door.

"Aren't you going to answer my question first?" Gil queried.

"You'll get the message," Sara's eyes fell upon his cell phone which was lying on the desk, she winked and then left him alone in his office.

He had to smile at this, he shook his head and laughed softly.

Later that night, Gil found himself out on the field with Catherine for a case. Another body had been found in the desert, five miles south of where the original body he'd examined the night before had been found. What bothered him about this was that he and Sara had probably been parked less than a mile from the body had been. He felt terribly guilty about this, as if his feelings for Sara might have caused him neglect his work altogether.

Catherine insisted she drive, "you look like Hell," she'd said as they'd approached the parking lot, Gil had switched the alarm off on his SUV, and headed towards it. "I can't let you drive like that, Grissom, you'll fall asleep at the wheel," she said, she snatched the keys from him before he had anything to say on the matter.

He didn't mind. If he felt tired enough, he could sleep in the passengers seat while Catherine did the driving. Normally he wouldn't have been thrilled about letting a woman drive his car, but he wasn't in the mood to argue either. "Fine," was all he could manage, and he took to the passengers seat.

Catherine drove like a woman possessed towards the desert, and Gil couldn't have slept through it if he'd tried – the roads were uneven, and at the speed she was taking them at made it an incredibly bumpy journey.

Gil took out his cellular phone and glanced towards the screen to see if there were any messages. He was having to skip dinner for this forty minute journey out into the desert, so he was afraid he might miss any message Sara might send. Unfortunately, so far, he hadn't received anything, he frowned in disappointment, and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

"Expecting a call?" Catherine asked, noticing this.

"Kind of," Gil shrugged, he rolled up his window, sand was blowing in his face and into his hair.

"How come you didn't get any sleep – did you even go home?" Catherine asked casually.

"I had to come out here to examine a body," he gestured up towards the open road. He adjusted his seatbelt and promised himself he was never letting Catherine drive his car again. Every bone in his tired body could feel the rattle from the car as it sped down the uneven road.

"Oh, yeah, Sara said that," Catherine nodded.

"She did?" Gil felt suddenly alarmed, "what did she say?"

_Why did Sara tell Cath she was with me? Why! Cath is going to put two and two together now and come up with five._

"That she needed a ride home, you were driving her home and halfway there you got a call from work so you took off, not wanting to waste time in dropping her off first," Catherine shrugged.

_Not true_, Gil thought. _We were outside her apartment. Why did Sara tell her? Is she trying to make Catherine see what's going on?_

"I thought she could do with the experience," Gil advised, "entomology can be handy to know, I had a few things to teach her."

"You must have put the poor girl to sleep right by the victim," Catherine rolled her eyes, "when you start talking about Bugs it's like smothering them with a chloroform soaked rag – puts them out like a light."

Gil had to smile at this. _Okay, so Catherine seems to be buying it_. He took his phone out of his pocket again and glanced at it, still no messages.

Catherine raised an eyebrow, "must be an important call, second time you've checked in twenty minutes."

Gil came up with an excuse, "Greg is supposed to phone me with the results to some DNA samples," he lied.

Catherine seemed to accept this, and let it drop.

The phone beeped shrilly right then, a message had arrived. Gil flipped it open eagerly, and selected the brand new message that had just come through.

From Sara Sidle. 12.45am.

He smiled slyly to himself, and chose the read option from the message menu.

**25.5.19. 4.5.6.9.14.1.20.5.12.25. 16.5.18.19.15.14.1.12.**

Gil blinked, nothing but numbers, the message was from Sara though, so he realised at once this was the code she'd joked about.

_So this is the code…what is it exactly_? He asked himself.

Catherine glanced over curiously, "what is THAT?" she could only see a small section of the numbers.

"Actually," Gil said, "I sometimes do the lotto – and I get one of those random number chooser things sent to me the day before I put it on," he explained, he marvelled at how quickly he'd managed to answer.

"Ohhhh," Catherine said.

Gil felt his cheeks flush crimson. Already he could tell Catherine was analysing this as if it were the latest crime to solve.

"Since when do you do the lotto? You want money like you want a hole in the head. Money never mattered to you."

Gil paused, this was true. "Well…you know, I figured I could do a lot for charity, or something," he shrugged, he wished she'd drop it.

"Fair enough," Catherine shrugged.

Gil spent some minutes trying to decipher this number code Sara had sent him. He couldn't make head nor tail of it.

_What the hell is this_? He pondered. _I do advanced level crosswords, and I can't figure out this_!

His mind was incredibly strained at this particular moment, and he was finding it incredibly hard to focus on the numbers at all. He failed in making sense of it.

Catherine and himself had arrived at the destination of the body before he could get much further with it.

Sighing, he put the phone in his pocket, and he got out to deal with the scene.

"I got your message."

Sara had been unlocking the door to her car at the end of her shift when Gil caught her outside in the parking lot. She turned to look at him, "oh?" she asked in response to his comment, she smiled in slight amusement as she opened the door to her car.

"Yeah," Gil stepped over, he kept his distance from her. People they both knew from work were going in and out of the building, and he didn't want to be noticed standing closer to her than he perhaps usually might.

Sara was about to climb into her car.

"Uh…"

Sara paused, "Hmm?"

"I didn't get it."

Sara laughed, "and you do advanced puzzles in the newspaper, and you couldn't figure out one of the simplest codes?"

Gil propped his elbow on the roof of the car, "to be fair," he said, "I have been over twenty-four hours without sleep."

Sara noted his car keys dangling from his other hand, "then you shouldn't even be driving. There's enough death on the road as it is."

_Is she concerned for me or for the others on the road? Maybe both?_

Gil shrugged, "I'm awake enough to make it," he assured.

Sara gave a half smile, "I could drive you home…" she suggested.

"I'll be fine," he nodded and gave a very slight wink. The awkward feelings revisited him right then, standing two feet apart from her, remembering how close they'd been twenty two hours ago, standing in the sunrise, embracing. The thoughts of their kiss floated back to him. How alive he'd felt. He wanted to feel that alive again.

"So…" Sara kept her stare on him.

"Uh…" Gil glanced towards the doors of the building, seeing no initial threat – no colleagues to eavesdrop. "So…uh…"

"Do…you want to get together later?" Sara asked, saying it for him.

He felt relief pound through his veins, "yes…yes, I would."

"You really need to get over this shyness of yours," Sara said very quietly, but she said it in the most loving way he was sure he'd ever heard her speak.

"I know," he quietly agreed, "it's not easy."

"I know," it was Sara's turn to agree now, "get some sleep and call me when you wake up," she uttered in her lowest voice, she spotted Warrick Brown stepping outside so decided it would be best to end the conversation quickly.

Gil gave a nod, "so…uh…what about the message?" he asked.

"You'll figure it out," she replied, still rather smug.

Gil then watched her climb into her car, and drive off. He felt an ache of loneliness when she'd gone that he hadn't expected.

"And so it begins," Gil said to himself quietly.

"Hmm?"

Gil turned to see Warrick standing there with a thoroughly confused expression on his face at Gil's statement to himself. Warrick had obviously been passing by and overheard.

"Oh, just the sunrise," he covered his comment quickly as he gestured up to the sky, "so it begins," he explained.

"You really need to get some sleep, boss," Warrick shook his head with a smirk and walked away.

Gil smirked too, "Yes," he admitted to himself, "yes, I do."


	7. Chapter 7: Deciphering

**Chapter 7**

**Deciphering**

****

* * *

The first thing Gil Grissom did when he woke up was look at his phone tosee if there were any other messages from Sara. The possibility of a message he was sure was what had woke him up earlier than he'd intended to get up in the first place.

Although there were no new messages for him on his phone, he didn't feel disappointment. Perhaps it was the previous message he'd received from Sara which he had not deciphered yet that took his mind completely off of the disappointment altogether.

He got up, showered, and dressed, and then settled on his couch with his phone and a notepad, and wrote out the numbers in order.

**25.5.19. 4.5.6.9.14.1.20.5.12.25. 16.5.18.19.15.14.1.12.**

He stared long and hard. Are the letters meant to look like alphabetical letters?" he asked himself. He tried to imagine that perhaps the 5 was maybe a G upside down. He turned the notepad upside down and studied it. Still didn't make sense.

He tried to add up the numbers in his head, he tried subtracting them, as if this would come up with some answer that was relevant but it made no difference to anything – other than leaving him feel more and more frustrated by the second that he just didn't get it.

_Okay, this is getting stupid_, he thought to himself as he picked up the cell phone again, and he opened up his text messaging service, he quickly thumbed in the short message 'Your message doesn't make sense', and he sent it to Sara's phone.

I'm supposed to me smart, why can't I figure this out? Sara will probably be laughing at me the minute she gets my message, he thought shaking his head at himself. He stared down at the pad, squinting, as if it might make the numbers look like letters.

His phone began to ring, and he hit the answer button and had it to his ear, "Grissom," he responded distractedly. The phone was ringing so it could only be work calling. He could already imagine that they needed his help for something or other.

"How doesn't it make sense?" came Sara's soft voice on the other end, she was definitely hiding laughter beneath it, she sounded as if she might crack up any minute.

"Because it doesn't," Gil answered, "I'm looking at it, and it just doesn't make sense," he turned the paper the proper way around and stared at it again. "So what am I missing here."

"Didn't you ever use the number code when you were a kid? Like passing notes to friends at school in number code so that you can make jokes about how ugly the teacher is without the teacher being able to see what's on the note?" she asked.

"No…what is the number code?" he asked curiously.

"Each number represents a letter in the alphabet, Gil," Sara said with a sigh, "I can't believe you didn't know that."  
"I worked two shifts without sleep and I'm still not completely caught up with my sleep right now – I'd say that's a pretty valid reason for not understanding it right off the bat," Gil wrote each letter of the alphabet down quickly while he was talking to her, he assigned each letter a number, starting with A as 1. "I thought you'd still be asleep."

"I only need around six hours sleep to function," Sara responded, she sounded peaceful and mellow – and definitely happy. Gil could hear the enthusiasm in her voice even as relaxed as she seemed.

"So…" Gil trailed off, he couldn't find anything to say and he was preoccupied with turning the alphabet into numbers.

"So…are we going to see each other tonight?" Sara asked.

Gil waited a moment to answer, he was still writing down the alphabet and the numbers, "sure," he answered, still a little distracted. He finished the alphabet and now started on trying to decipher the message.

"Should we meet somewhere?" Sara asked.

Gil stopped, he chewed on the blunt end of his pencil for a moment. Going out with Sara meant being in public view. What if one of their colleagues on shift while out in a vehicle should happen to see them together going into a restaurant, or going into the movie theatre…or even walking side by side. He didn't want to take that chance so early in the relationship.

"Gil?" Sara asked, he hadn't answered her yet, he realised he'd gone almost a minute without answering.

"Sorry," he shook himself to bring himself back to his senses, "I don't know if it's a good idea to go outside – together – at least not yet."

"We've been outside – together – a million times," Sara pointed out.

"Not on a day off," Gil reminded. "It's one thing if I'm driving you home after work, or if I'm out in the field with you at work – but on a day off?" he asked.

"Actually, yes we have been outside – together – on a day off," Sara interjected, "the night we all went out together, remember? We were together in the nightclub…when you were whispering in my ear. We were together in the street, when you hailed a cab…and we were together in the cab…holding hands."

"Okay…we haven't been together on a day off since…" he trailed off, trying to think of a way to put it.

"Since deciding to be 'together'," Sara finished for him.

"Yes."

"So how do we get together without…going out?" Sara asked. "Do you want to come to my place for dinner and a movie? I can't really cook but…we could order in."

Gil thought about this, but it seemed too risky. Sara would be comfortable in her own house, and more likely to feel comfortable with him there in it with her.

"Why don't you come here?" Gil asked. "I'll cook…"

Sara made a fake coughing noise, "excuse me, are you actually inviting me to your house?"

"Yes, yes I am," Gil answered.

"Wow…you don't like people in your house. You said it yourself a few times," Sara responded.

_I'm not comfortable with having other people in my house, no_, he thought at himself. _But I'm also not comfortable being at her place. It's more inviting with its warm colours and scented candles…and that's bad news. I don't need a romantic setting tonight, I don't want to get carried away_.

"Yeah, well…it's something I probably will have to get used to…especially if me and you are going to be…" he trailed off again.

"Together?"

"Yes," he said, "you remember where I live, yeah?"

"Yeah…yes, I do," she responded, "What time?" she asked.

"Whenever, doesn't matter," he answered. "Bring some movies or something…" he continued trying to break her number code.

"Alright…I'll see you later then," Sara said. She still had the tone of surprise in her voice, as if she could barely believe he'd asked her over.

I must be some kind of Ogre if she's surprised I'm inviting her into my house, Gil thought. "Yes, I'll see you later," he responded, "Bye, Sara."

"Bye, Gil."

Gil matched a letter to the final number in the code.

Sara's message read:

**YES DEFINITELY PERSONAL**

It was the response to the question he'd asked the night before.

_Are we in a personal relationship or aren't we_?

He rolled his eyes, "it took me this long to see what was so obvious. I bet she's laughing at me right this minute," he shook his head at himself and got up, deciding to clean up a little before Sara arrived.


	8. Chapter 8: Entomology Lesson

**Chapter 8**

**Entomology Lesson**

****

* * *

Gil felt apprehension growing with every passing minute as he rushed around his home confirming things were tidy before letting her in. He'd always been obsessively neat at home (except where the contents of the refrigerator was concerned), but something about knowing Sara was coming made him go the extra mile to make sure the toilet was thoroughly spotless. Unfortunately he'd gone a little overzealous in his attempt and used a little too much, causing the whole bathroom to be engulfed by the rancid scent of the stuff.

The counters of the kitchen area were scrubbed until they might possibly sparkle, and he tried to rearrange the food and drinks in his fridge as best he could – hiding any weird experiments he'd forgotten about several months earlier – in case she should just happen to look in there.

_What's the big deal_? He asked himself_. She's been here before_. _Granted, she didn't spend enough time to stand and look around and study the surroundings, but she's been here. She won't care if the counter tops are clean. She probably won't be anywhere near them_.

He spent some time staring into his cupboards and fridge feeling ever so slightly annoyed with himself that he hadn't been prepared for this. He'd said he'd cook, but now he was beginning to feel apprehensive that whatever he cooked might be insufficient. He decided to wait until she arrived before he decided what he could cook for her.

It was approaching sunset when he heard the doorbell. He wiped his hands off on a dishcloth that he tossed onto his shoulder temporarily, he deliberately turned off his cellular phone and turned the ring volume off on his landline phone – he didn't need any disruptions tonight. If he had more work disruption, he was certain Sara might wish to call the whole thing off.

He answered the door with a nervous smile, Sara stood at his door in jeans that seemed to do nothing but accent how slim her long legs were, and a black t-shirt that had some band name on it that Gil didn't recognise. Her hair was pulled back in a casual ponytail, a few tendrils loose, wispy around her face. Sara looked undeniably beautiful despite how casual as she'd come dressed.

In fact, he adored the fact she'd come so natural. Being a woman, she might have felt compelled to make some effort to put on a nice dress and spend an hour doing her hair before coming over, but she looked more casual than she even did at work. It made him love her all the more.

"Hey," Sara smiled, she held up a bag with a local DVD rental shop logo in bright yellow across it, "movies," she handed the bag to him.

"What'd you rent?" He asked casually as he let her in and closed the door behind her, he opened the bag and pulled the movies out.

"Uh…" Sara paused, "_The Ring_, _Cold Creek Manor_, and _Pirates of the Caribbean_," she answered. "I don't know what kind of movies you like, so I just chose whatever stood out on the shelves," she added, she sniffed the air, "have you been using bleach?" she asked. "A lot of bleach?"

"I spilled some on the bathroom floor," he lied, even as he said it he immediately felt stupid. If she went to that bathroom, she'd know he hadn't spilled the bleach, the toilet was practically glowing in the dark and the floor – which was incredibly dingy despite several years of mopping - had no noticeably clean spots on it that could be blamed on bleach.

Sara didn't seem to care about the bleach fiasco at all, she shrugged, "I brought this," she raised her other hand, a bottle of white wine clutched tightly in her fist.

"Are you driving?" Gil asked, he hated himself for letting this be the first thing that passed his lips after her having generously brought a bottle of wine over, but he couldn't help but still feel that very tiny bit concerned.

Sara looked at him, "does it matter?" she asked, she handed him the bottle.

"I just…" he couldn't find a way to explain this one away. He swore mentally at himself beginning to think he might have just ruined the evening by letting his mouth run ahead of him.

"I got the bus," Sara smiled wryly, "is that okay with you?"

"Yes…" Gil sighed a little, "I'm sorry, I just…"

"It's okay…I know…" she nodded, "You think I have a drinking problem…"

Gil didn't say anything. He wanted to say what was on his mind. No, I know you have a problem. He carried the bottle of wine over to the kitchen area, and he took out two glasses, "Sara, I need to ask you something…" he said, he opened the wine.

"Why do I drink?" Sara asked without a beat, as if she'd expected it to be hins next question, "I don't know, Gil, I'd really just rather drop it."

"Actually, uhm, no," Gil said, rather flustered now.

Sara looked at him, blankly.

"What I wanted to say was…uhm…I don't know what to make you…for dinner I mean…" he leaned on the counter for a moment, "I know you said you're a vegetarian, but…some vegetarians eat fish…" he trailed off, "others…don't even eat dairy…" he explained.

"Oh," Sara looked away, her expression sheepish, "I'm vegetarian, not vegan," she stated. "I can eat dairy."

"Oh, that's good…then is tagliatelle to your liking?" he asked.

"That's fine," Sara nodded, she seemed to be surprised he could even cook.

"I can see by the look on your face that you're kind of amused – or surprised – that I can cook…" Gil said.

"No offence, I just figured that most bachelors ate out of their microwaves," Sara responded, she smirked a little. "It's kind of daunting that you can cook better than I can," she admitted.

Gil chuckled, "well…while other women were cooking for their boyfriends you were probably at a shooting range working on your aim," he said.

Sara nodded, "actually, that's pretty true," she moved over.

Gil poured the wine, he handed her a glass, "make yourself comfortable, start one of the movies if you like, I'll take care of dinner."

Sara brushed a lock of her hair back behind her ear, it had come loose of her ponytail, "mind if I take a look around?"

Actually, yes, I do, he thought. But I better not say that, or you'll think I'm crazy for having invited you over in the first place.

"You've been here before," Gil said, he took a tub of cream out of the fridge.

"Yeah, but I never looked around…do you mind?"

"Not at all…just…don't go into the bathroom yet…you'd probably choke on the smell of spilt bleach," he confessed.

Sara gave a soft laugh, "okay…"

Gil tried to make his preparation of dinner rather quick, the sauce was the harder part, but he got it done, every now and then he would glance over the counter to see her wandering. Soon, she was at the wall by the window just left of his couch, admiring all the different butterflies he had framed upon the plain wall.

"I never noticed these the last time I was here," Sara said, she was holding her glass of wine still. Gil was relieved to see she'd only drank half of it, instead of gulping the entire glass down as she'd done weeks earlier in the Chinese restaurant.

"Usually they're the first thing someone notices when they walk in," Gil admitted, "Catherine says they draw the eye because they're probably the only thing in the place that has any real 'colour' in it," he added, giving a wry smile.

"This one's beautiful," Sara said, gesturing to one butterfly in particular.

Gil left his sauce simmering, and he moved over to see which butterfly she was referring to, a butterfly with brilliant orange and jet wings. "Ah…Speyeria nokomis apacheana" he noted, "Commonly known as Western Steep Fritillary. This is a male," he said, "the females are black and yellow-green…"

"Dimorphism," Sara replied, "Like spiders. The female is different from the male," she sipped her wine. "What's this one," She pointed to another.

"Limenitis bredowii californicus…" he answered, "known as California Sister. It gets its' common name because the black and white colouration on its' forewings resemble that of a nun's habit," he smirked.

Sara smirked a little too.

"This one here," Gil said, he stood behind her a little, raising his hand over her shoulder to gesture towards a particular butterfly, "is Zaretis itys…the Leaf Wing butterfly. I love the design of its' wings, it becomes virtually invisible against any foliage with slightly dry leaves."

Sara leaned back into him a little, she turned to look at him, her glance meaningful.

Gil felt that old nervousness reappear, he tried to press on and remain calm, "Uh…this, uh…butterfly here," he gestured towards another, "they call it the owl butterfly, because…well, it's marking, like an owls giant amber eyes…" he was very aware of how his voice had become a lot higher in his tension. The closer she got to him, the more he felt it building up.

Sara nodded, and Gil found himself wondering if she was actually interested in any of this at all. She leaned in even closer until her shoulder was pressing against his chest, she turned to look at him again.

"They're usually, uh…only really active, around…you know…dawn and dusk," he added.

"Just like us in our line of work," Sara mused.

"Is this boring you at all?" Gil asked, concerned now, he cleared his throat a little.

"Nope," Sara replied, she sipped her wine.

"It's just…Cath said something along the lines of my harping on about bugs it's like…smothering someone with a chloroform soaked rag," he chuckled.

Sara laughed at this, "I can see why she would think that…but…well…it doesn't bother me," she confessed, she kept her eyes on him, "you seem nervous again."

"I'm fine," he forced a smile, "Just fine."

"Good," Sara turned fully towards him, she tenderly slid her arms around his neck, still holding the glass of wine in one hand precariously. This move was very bold, and Gil hadn't been ready for it. He felt very inadequate and blundering as he attempted to confidently put his arms around her waist.

_Are we going to kiss now_? He thought in a panic. _I'm not sure I'm ready for this yet – the tagliatelle sauce is nearly ready_.

"I really, uh…should cook the pasta," Gil responded.

"In a minute," she nodded, and leaned into kiss him.

Her lips never got there, because Gil heard his front door closing, and he realised he'd left it unlocked – again. He pushed her away quickly instinctively, which caused her to spill some of the wine on the tile floor.

"Gil…what…?" she asked confusedly.

Catherine Willows appeared from the small hallway, "Your door was open – again," she said to Gil, "you know, just anyone could walk in here," she said.

Gil looked to the ceiling in disbelief. Why now? Why did Catherine have to show up now? Wasn't she meant to be working.

"Hey…what's goin' on here?" Catherine asked, gesturing to the wine on the kitchen counter and the smell of sauce cooking on the stove.

Gil said the first thing that came to his head, "entomology lesson. Cath, aren't you meant to be at work?"

"Yes, actually I am," Catherine responded, she sniffed the air, "do I smell bleach?"

"Yes, I spilled some," Gil responded quickly, "why are you here when you're meant to be working."

"I tried to call, but your cell phone is off and your house phone just rang and rang…" Catherine explained, "you took home files I need for the case I'm working on," she said.

"Oh…right…the Delany case and the Treiger case…" Gil felt like slapping himself on the head and doing a very good impression of Homer Simpson.

"Yes," Catherine said, "could I have them please?"

Sara grabbed a strip of kitchen paper from the roll on the counter, and knelt down on the floor to wipe up the spilt wine.

Gil was incredibly aware of how Catherine was watching Sara with a suspicious eye. He moved over to the coffee table where he'd left the folders and picked them up, "Here you go," he moved over and handed them to her quickly.

"So…entomology lesson, huh?" Catherine asked.

"Yes, entomology lesson," Gil said, he put his hands on Catherine's shoulders from behind and began to guide her down the hall.

"Over wine?" Catherine asked when they were in the small hall, slightly out of earshot of Sara.

"You and me have had drinks over murder cases," Gil responded, a little annoyed she was being so incredibly meddlesome.

"Right…" Catherine said, but she didn't look like she believed him for one minute, "I'll see you at work tomorrow," she said, she waved with a smug expression on her face, and she left.

Gil deliberately locked the door behind her, and he stood with his back against the door for some moments, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ," he muttered under his breath.

"Is she gone?"

Sara was standing at the other end of the small hallway, looking at him concernedly.

"Yes," Gil nodded, "she's gone. God, I can't believe she just walked in…without even knocking…"

Sara folded her arms insecurely, "I think she knew, Gil."

"Probably."

"Entomology lesson?" Sara asked.

Gil sighed, "Well…it was the first thing that came to mind…"


	9. Chapter 9: Butterflies

**Chapter 9**

**Butterflies**

****

* * *

"I can't believe any guy on Earth can cook this good – especially not a bachelor who practically lives at work," Sara commented during dinner. She was sitting opposite him at the dinner table. "It's surprising."

Gil had to smile at this, "surprising, huh?" he asked, he had finished off half of the plate of pasta, but wasn't that interested in eating it. He felt it tasted strange without the ham that was a vital ingredient to the tagliatelle. He'd had to forgo putting it in for Sara's sake, although he felt it was somewhat worth it. At least she seemed to be enjoying it.

"It's kind of embarrassing, really," Sara admitted after a moment, "I mean here you are, you can actually cook a proper meal – without a microwave. Here I am, if I tried to fry an egg right now, it'd be cremated."

Gil chortled, "Well…some people have their weaknesses," he said, "obviously you were more interested in science at school than cooking an egg in home economics," he suggested.

"Probably true," Sara picked up her glass and quickly sipped her wine.

"I'll teach you, if you like," Gil offered.

"Teach me?" Sara asked.

"To cook," Gil said, "it's not that hard. If I can do it anyone can."

"Oh, great, now I'm getting cooking lessons as well as entomology lessons?" Sara smirked, but her comment was like a needle, that pricked him to remind him of what he'd said to Catherine.

Gil felt rather sheepish right then. "Y'know, it wasn't exactly a lie," he reminded, "We were standing talking about butterflies – that could be classed as a lesson."

"What are you going to say to Catherine anyway, if she asks you questions about why I was here?" Sara asked, she took another bite of her food. "I don't think she bought the entomology thing for one minute."

Gil looked down to the table for a moment, "y'know…I'm honestly not sure what I'll say. Catherine is…perceptive – to a terrifying degree. She probably had it figured out right off the bat."

"Probably," Sara said, she put her fork down slowly, she pushed her plate away, indicating she'd eaten enough.

Gil got up to remove the plates from the table, "I'm sorry my apartment still smells like bleach," he said after a moment, he immediately wished he hadn't – it seemed to make it all the more obvious he'd run out of things to say.

_Damn it, I'm screwing this up so badly_, he thought miserably, he took the plates to the garbage disposal to throw the remains of dinner away_. I'm supposed to be logical, I shouldn't be having these problems. I'm almost fifty years old, by now I should have had enough experience dating to be able to sail through this whole thing without missing a beat._

_But…I don't know, she gets near me, and suddenly I turn into this kid…inexperienced and bumbling, while she is handling this so well – considering how suddenly it all came about she's not nervous at all…not like me._

Gil paused,_ How did I become so nervous, anyway? I've had dates that have gone so easily compared to this. I've managed to get women into bed on the first date before – without feeling embarrassed or awkward. Why should this be any different?_

Gil glanced across at Sara, Sara was sitting sipping her wine, her eyes roaming the apartment.

_You know why this is different, you idiot_, he told himself. _Why do I ask myself these stupid questions. I already know the answers. It's simple. Sara means something to me, and every other woman I've ever dated hasn't ever welled up half the emotions in me that Sara can stir with giving me a single dose of those pretty brown eyes. This is the one relationship you do care about. Every other relationship meant nothing compared to this. One sudden impulse started this relationship, one wrong thing could end it. _

Sara caught his staring and she smiled with a slight confusion, "is…something wrong?" she asked.

"No, nothing at all," he answered quickly as he looked away, he scraped the food into the garbage disposal.

This is turning into the worst date ever, he thought. You insist on having her over so you can play your little secrecy games, you make stupid conversation about bugs and try to steer clear of romance altogether, and you don't even have the sense to compliment how beautiful you think she looks tonight.

"You look like you're deep in thought," Sara got up, "are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he assured, he turned to glance at her, "Sara…you look nice…" he said, although he said it in a very monotone way almost as if she had asked him how she looked, as if it were the answer to a question rather than a compliment.

Sara blinked, her expression spoke volumes, she seemed to be contemplating whether this was a compliment or not.

Gil winced, oh my god, just stop talking, you're making this worse!

"Thank you," Sara finally said, "but…y'know…" she gave a little laugh, "I didn't dress up so you don't have to pay me compliments…I don't even have makeup on."

"I noticed," Gil said, the admission almost sounded insulting from his lips, he winced again, "oh my god," he whispered, looking away.

"What is up with you? You look dismayed every time you open your mouth," Sara moved closer.

Gil filled the sink with warm soapy water, "listen," he said, he decided to use his supervisory persona for the situation, it was the best way he could deal with things without staggering over every word, "I am not good at this. Every time I open my mouth I know it's the wrong thing to say…I can't help it."

Sara raised an eyebrow, "are you my supervisor now, or my boyfriend?"

It was Gil's turn to blink. It had occurred to him that Sara and he were in a relationship now. However, the one thing that had not occurred to him was she might deem him her 'boyfriend'. The name somehow, didn't feel like it fitted right at all. For one thing, it was still the first date – and it seemed to be jumping the gun, and second of all, Gil felt he was a little old to be a boyfriend at all.

"Do we have to call it 'boyfriend'?" Gil asked stupidly.

Sara laughed nervously, "are…you getting cold feet or something? Changing your mind?" she asked worriedly.

"No…it's just…okay, don't think I'm crazy…but…" he placed the dishes into the water, "this…is the first date, right? So…right now we're just like testing the waters before diving in…"

"I guess you could say that," Sara confessed, she put her empty wine glass on the counter, she picked up the bottle and poured herself another glass.

"Well, anyway…calling me a boyfriend right now…I don't know, it feels maybe like jinxing it," he said. "Like we're getting ahead of ourselves?"

Sara paused, then looked at him sternly, "You just don't like the term 'boyfriend'."

"Not when it's describing who I am to you, no," Gil admitted sheepishly.

"What's wrong with 'boyfriend'?"

"I'm not a boy," Gil said, "When I think of boyfriends and girlfriends, I think of…teenagers, college kids…"

"So…what do you want me to call you? My partner? Makes it sound like we're cop-buddies wielding our guns, and side by side in the car during high speed chases," Sara chuckled.

Gil had to laugh at this too, she was right. "I…guess you're right," he said. "I don't know what I want to be called yet. Lets wait until…well…lets just wait…"

"You're still not comfortable with this, are you?" Sara asked, there was concern in her eyes.

Gil wanted to admit he wasn't completely comfortable with it at all, but he remained silent.

"Hey…it's okay to be uncomfortable," Sara took a sip of her wine, it seemed to give her a moment to pause and think before continuing. "I'm not comfortable either yet," she said.

"You're handling it a lot better than I am, Sara," Gil responded coolly, mentally he felt like one large potential emotional train wreck about to fly off the tracks at any given moment.

Sara scoffed, "tell that to the butterflies in my stomach."

Gil had to smile at that, and in his most timid voice, he murmured, "That's okay…I happen to like butterflies."


	10. Chapter 10: Punishment

**Chapter 10**

**Punishment**

****

* * *

Paperwork had been the last thing on Gil's mind that night. In fact, the word 'paperwork' might have never existed as far as Gil was concerned, for he'd given it no thought at all. But somehow, one question from Sara had suddenly made him realize how much a silly pile of paperwork could actually cripple someone's personal life in a very strange way.

He hadn't really thought paperwork had any real impact on his personal life until he and Sara had settled down to watch the first movie. He chose to sit a foot apart from her on the couch rather than directly beside her. He wanted to take this slow, and not rush too fast. He wasn't comfortable with the thought of cuddling down on the couch just yet.

"Do you want to get together for breakfast after the end of shift tomorrow?" Sara asked casually, she leaned back into the leather couch, crossing one leg over the other, she folded her arms over her stomach comfortably.

Gil didn't say yes, or no, he gestured towards the television glad that the DVD movie had started before he'd had a chance to properly answer. The truth was he wanted to go, and he had been on the brink of saying yes, but then he'd remembered what he was always doing at breakfast time when the team were leaving after their shift – on their way to breakfast together, or on their way home.

He'd be sitting behind his desk trying to clear a large backlog of paperwork he'd somehow managed to neglect. Not only would he have tomorrow's paperwork to deal with before leaving work, but he'd also have the paperwork from tonight, since he wasn't at work at all, the paperwork would just be thrown into his intray as if it were the penalty for having a night off.

Until that moment, he'd never realised how much of his time paperwork took. Time, that now, he was going to have to make for Sara if he expected to have any kind of relationship with her at all.

_I never even considered the paperwork aspect_, he realised, he glanced out of the corner of his eyes towards Sara, who was very much engrossed with the movie. _How am I going to deal with it? The only day I ever have any free time during the week is when I get my two days off – there's no way Sara is going to settle for that – two days a week. Especially since she works on one of those days_.

Surprisingly, time seemed to go by fast when the movies were on. He turned the lights down – but not off completely. The less romantic the setting, the better.

Gil tried to convince himself that it was better the first date wasn't very romantic at all, that way, he had no standards to keep up to afterwards. He was sure if he tried to explain this to Sara she might throw her wine in his face and storm out, so he remained quiet.

Three movies later, and it was three in the morning. Gil barely felt exhausted, but Sara had begun to look very tired. If the two of them had not been used to the demanding hours of nightshift, perhaps the date would have ended sooner, but neither had really noticed how late it had become.

"You never answered me about breakfast," Sara said, she gave a yawn as the credits on the final film began to roll, she gave a stretch and rolled her neck, an adible crick made her wince.

"Let me get back to you on that," Gil responded, "I need to see what my paperwork backlog is like before I make any future dates with you," he sighed.

Sara looked at him, "you've left it to pile up again, haven't you?"

"Habit," he shrugged sheepishly, "every time I get to my desk it's sitting there like this big huge pile of punishment – punishment probably for loving fieldwork too might," he added frowning, "Sara, you look exhausted," he suddenly said.

"I am," Sara, let her head rest back against the leather of the couch, she looked at him, "I really need to get going," she made a face at this, as if she didn't want the night to end. Gil didn't understand why she should want to stay any longer, it wasn't as if the night was the most romantic night she'd ever experience in her life – it surely couldn't be something she wanted to cling onto.

"I'll call you a cab," Gil stood slowly. He couldn't drive her home after all the wine he'd had, and he certainly didn't want to let her go find her own transport.

"Before you do…" Sara gestured for him to stop where he was, "I need to know something…"

"Yes?"

"You sat a foot apart from me," she gestured to the empty space where he'd just been sitting. "Any reason you don't want to be near me?"

Gil hesitated, "I…uh…it's not that I don't want to be near you," he said, he picked up his phone, and grabbed the yellow pages from the end table, "it's just…"

"Just…you're still having problems with this shyness?"

He fell silent, but then managed a grumbled "Somewhat…" he then pretended to be preoccupied with finding the number for a cab company.

"Somewhat…so that means that it's not just your little shyness that's the problem here," Sara said.

Gil glanced up to her, somehow the words spilled from his mouth before he'd had much time to consider the consequences of saying them, "would you have preferred foreplay for dinner, sex for desert and a cigarette for after?"

Sara just laughed, "after waiting as long as we have? That might have been warranted," her voice didn't betray any surprise at his comment.

"I'm all out of cigarettes, sorry," he tried to joke, "Why the rush, anyway?" he asked, "if we waited this long to finally…get to this point…then whats a further couple of days…or weeks…or even months…before…we think about anything else?"

Sara smiled a little, "I'm sorry…I'm just used to the direct approach, I guess."

"I can be direct, Sara," Gil chose a number in the yellow pages for a local cab company and he quickly dialed, "but being direct with you just wouldn't feel right," he added quietly, and felt very exposed for admitting this.

He made arrangements for a cab to come and pick her up and take her home, then put down the phone, "cab will be here in ten minutes," he said. He took the DVD they'd been watching out of the player, and placed it into the case it had come with, slid it into the bag with the other two they'd watched tonight, and placed it on the table, "how much do I owe you for the DVD rental?"

"Nothing. You took care of dinner, I took care of the DVDs. We're even," Sara said, she seemed quite crestfallen suddenly, and Gil wondered if he'd done something wrong.

Gil moved over and sat beside her on the couch, this time, he sat directly next to her, as opposed to a foot away, so that the side of his thigh pressed against her own, "listen…" he murmured in his softest voice, "I...am struggling here. There's something about being here with you right now that feels completely different from anything else I've ever felt with another woman – and not in a bad way. But…it's something I've never had to cope with before."

Sara stared at him.

"Do you know what I'm saying?" he asked, hoping that this was his way of saying he loved her without having to exactly say the words. He had literally strained his mind to come up with the explanation, but he was very aware he was still leaving it very vague.

Sara shook her head in response. He wasn't sure if she did understand or if she was just anxious to hear more.

"I don't want to jump to conclusions about…what the feelings might be but I have a pretty good idea…" he found himself stammering through the words, but he pressed on, "and…because of how different it feels…with you I mean…I want to take this slow to make sure there's no mistakes…"

Sara tilted her head a little, looking at him as if she were trying to understand a complex puzzle hidden in his eyes.

"And like I said…this is the first night of many…there's plenty of time. I'm not going anywhere," he assured.

"How do I know that?" Sara asked.

"Because I'm telling you," Gil picked a piece of lint off of the shoulder of her t-shirt with a delicate absence, "I've spent four years…working beside you, you know how I felt, you always knew," he said, "and those four years…pent up…holding back on those feelings is what caused me to kiss you when I did," he tried to explain, "and…I worry that…" he trailed off.

"That if impulse would make you do that, it might make you want to do other things?"

"In a nutshell. Not that I think I'd hurt you with an impulse stronger than the urge to kiss, but…I'm afraid I might…ruin our relationship more than build on it."

"Okay…I get it now," Sara nodded, "And…I guess it's nice…that you want to…take it slow. Most guys out there expect women to put out on the first date…"

"I am not one of those guys," Gil responded.

Sara hesistated, she had something to say, but Gil could see her struggling with it. He decided not to ask. If it was important enough, she'd say it, and if it wasn't, she'd leave it be. He got up and wandered over to the window, he saw the cab pulling up outside.

"Your cab is here."

Sara stood slowly, she picked up the bag with the DVDs, "I'll see you at work tomorrow, then…"

"Let me see you to the cab…" Gil led her to the door, "remember what I said…work is for work, and we don't discuss us at work," he said, "as of tomorrow…we have to try and stick to those rules."

Sara nodded.

Gil took her all the way out to the cab, and he opened the door for her. Sara looked at him hesistantly again, as she was about to step into the cab.

_She expects some kind of affection_, you idiot, Gil thought angrily at himself. _You kissed her two nights ago and now you won't even take her hand, or take her in your arms…if you like the girl you're supposed to end the date with a little affection to let the girl know how you feel_.

"Sara…" Gil said, stopping her as she was about to climb in.

Sara paused, looking at him, the door of the cab between them both.

"I'm glad you came over tonight," was all he could manage.

_This is getting ridiculous, you've held her hand before, you've kissed her, hard and passionately for several minutes, why can't you just show some kind of emotion right now? It's not going to do any harm. This simply isn't good enough, you have to try harder or you'll lose her before you ever even had her._

Sara gave a somewhat half-hearted smile and a nod.

Akwardly, he leaned across the top of the door of the cab to kiss her forehead. He felt incredibly foolish in doing so at first, until he saw the relieved smile spreading on her face. _Okay, so maybe it's not exactly a heated passionate lingering kiss like the one from a few days ago but it's something_, he thought.

In moments, she was gone, the cab disappeared into the night, and Gil gave a sigh. Once, his heart had felt as if it were sinking every time he was near her. Now, as she left his sight, his heart sank Not only because she wasn't with him anymore, but because when he got into work, he was going to have to deal with the overload of paperwork just to be with her.


	11. Chapter 11: Office Ink

**Chapter 11**

**Office Ink**

****

* * *

"Oh my god…you're in early doing paperwork. Something is definitely up with you," Catherine Willows stated as she stepped into Gil Grissom's office that next evening. Gil was stationed behind his desk having gotten through almost all of yesterdays paperwork already.

"I came in early to get rid of it. I'm sick of it piling up on my desk. Paperwork in this place is like weeds in a flowerbed - you leave it there and over time it starts to multiply and overgrow until it's taking over the entire garden," he uttered.

"Oh come on, you expect me to believe that you've simply just snapped under the pressure of overload on reports and inventory requests?" Catherine raised an eyebrow. She closed the door, "this isn't anything to do with the so-called 'entomology lesson' last night, is it?" she queried, she raised an eyebrow, looking down her nose at him.

"Not at all," he lied. Of course, he trusted her enough to answer, but he just loved that suspicious expression on her face so much he wanted to play it stupid as long as he could. He rarely had any fun these days at all, it would be fun letting Catherine work things out for herself.

"Well, something is up, that's for sure," Catherine admitted, "you and Sara haven't said a word to each other for weeks unless it's case related, you get uncomfortable around each other, and then last night suddenly there she is in your apartment sipping on wine – the whole place smells like bleach and there you were making her dinner," Catherine pointed out.

"Something me and you do every so often," he reminded, he put his pen down, "is there a reason you're in early, Catherine?" he asked.

"Not really," Catherine dropped into the seat opposite him, "you don't break out the bleach for me," she put her feet up on his desk casually, "so…what was last night all about, really."

"Entomology. Speak with Sara, I'm sure she'll have some useful information about butterflies for you."

"Right," Catherine nodded, but he could see the expression of disbelief painted plainly on her face. "You never invite anyone to your apartment unless its work related."

Gil picked up a mug of coffee that had been situated to his right, he took a sip and winced, "ugh, nothing worse than cold coffee," he muttered. "Makes me wonder what the big deal with those stupid frozen cappuccinos is," he put the mug down in disgust.

"You're changing the subject," Catherine noted.

"I've invited you to my apartment," he pointed out indifferently.

"Not anyone else."

"Jealous, are we?" he smirked, he picked up a cardboard folder from his desk and opened it, he picked up his pen and set back to work.

"Why would I be jealous? You and I aren't involved, and besides, I have a secret admirer," Catherine smirked.

"Oh?" Gil took off his glasses and stared at her. "Do tell."

"I'll tell you about it when you tell me about what's going on," Catherine offered.

"Nice tactic, give a little info and get a lot more back. Well…sorry, there's not much more here than an entomology lesson and some dinner.

"I don't believe you," Catherine stated firmly. "Has to mean something."

"Why does it have to mean something?" he asked, he put his glasses back on, shaking his head at her.

"Because this is Sara. You have a soft spot for her, you always have," Catherine answered quite matter-of-factly.

"I wouldn't call it a soft spot," Gil responded, shaking his head still, he signed his name off on a piece of paper absently, he tried to pretend to remain focused, but he just wanted to laugh at the fight Catherine was putting up to find out more information about the night before.

"Actually, it's more like a burning passion," Catherine said, "unrequited love, perhaps."

_Not quite_, he thought mischievously.

"WHY are you smirking like that?" Catherine asked suddenly, she sat up straight, taking her feet off of the desk. "My god, who are you and WHAT have you done with Gil Grissom?" she blinked, mouth hanging open, "you're like a different person today."

_I feel like a different person too_, he realised. _Who'd have ever thought that starting a relationship with Sara would lift my spirits as much as it has today_?

"I just had a really good sleep last night," he lied.

"And did you happen to wake up with someone next to you?" Catherine gave a devilish grin.

Gil decided to respond in a way that he usually wouldn't, "if I had actually woke up with someone next to me, I probably would have called in sick."

_This is fun, look at her, she's getting frustrated that she's not finding anything out. This must be killing her, she loves to be on top of every little thing_.

Catherine smirked, "this whole happy little mood you have going here is just too good to be true," she said, "what did happen last night?"

"We ate pasta, we sipped wine, we talked about bugs. What more could happen?" he asked, he stood up, "if you'll excuse me, I have to hand in these reports."

Catherine stood up too, "I'll find out, Gil," she promised, "I'll know by the look on Sara's face if anything else other than a boring entomology lesson happened last night."

Gil stopped at the door, pausing for thought, then he spoke, "by secret admirer, do you mean whoever sent you the Valentine?"

"Yes," Catherine answered, "I thought it was a joke at first, but then I got roses when I got home – same phony handwriting on the card, and someone left me a love note at the reception...all it said was 'still guessing'?"

"Knows where you work AND where you live, either this is someone very close to you already or…you have a stalker," Gil said seriously.

"It's not you, is it? Playing a joke on me or something?" Catherine asked concernedly.

"Come on. I have a weird sense of humour but not that weird. Besides, you know I couldn't disguise my handwriting if I tried," Gil rolled his eyes, "And…can you really see me going into some store and picking out a 'sex kitten' Valentine?"

"I guess not," Catherine mused, she had the expression on her face that told Gil she was trying to picture it in her mind of how that scene would look. "I did fingerprint the card, you know and all I ended up with was a lot of smudged partials from everyone in the store it was originally from," she replied, "it'd be hard to pinpoint who actually sent it."

"Catherine, be careful…you know, as romantic as it probably seems, you could be in for trouble if you have a secret admirer…need I remind you of how out of hand these things get?"

"I will be careful," Catherine assured, "in the meantime," she stepped over, and placed her hand on the door handle, she looked straight at him, "I want to tell you the same thing."

"To be careful?" he asked in surprise.

"Dipping the pen in the office ink, Gil…things can get messy."

"I wouldn't worry about me, Cath. My pens don't leak."


	12. Chapter 12: Oh

**Chapter 12**

**Oh**

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"Have you noticed Sara is weird today?"

Gil blinked when Greg Sanders asked him this. He momentarily forgot the reason he'd come into the lab in the first place. "I…haven't noticed, no," Gil stated. In truth, the brief time he'd spoken to Sara at the beginning of the shift he hadn't noticed any change in demeanor. "What do you mean by 'weird'?" Gil asked, he leaned on the desk casually.

"Grinning like a Cheshire cat," Greg answered.

"Ohhh," Gil said, he put a small packet on the desk, "I need this analysed," he said, trying to change the subject.

"She was kind of moody a few days ago," Greg continued, picking up the packet, he opened it and gazed in, "ugh, used condom," he uttered under his breath, "you should warn me when you're going to spring these on me," he stepped over to the counter to grab a swab from the container, "so anyway, did Sara get promoted or something?"

"No, why would you think that?" Gil asked.

"Why else would she be in a good mood?" Greg shrugged, "the only thing Sara cares about is work, so…" he trailed off.

"I'm sure that's not true," Gil forced a smile and headed for the door.

"Unless…" Greg paused,

Gil stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder, "Unless what?"

"Unless she's happy about the Valentine I sent her," Greg mused.

Gil felt speechless.

"Do you know if she got it?" Greg asked, excitement in his eyes.

"Uh…yeah," Gil swallowed, "I think she did, she thought it was a joke, though," he shrugged. "Maybe she's just had a good long sleep and woke up refreshed," he suggested. He felt terribly guilty now about this. If it hadn't been for the Valentine card, his relationship with Sara might have never taken off in the first place.

"Do you think I should ask her out?" Greg asked.

"I don't think that's an appropriate subject for discussion during working hours. I think instead of considering asking women out you should maybe perhaps process that used condom."

"I'm on it," Gil said, a slight tone of insolence, "but seriously, should I ask her out – come on, just be honest."

"I…don't think so," Gil replied, "I don't think you should ask her out no."

"You don't think me and her would be a good match?" Greg asked as he went about preparing the sample in front of him.

Gil would never know why he said what he did next, "I actually think she's seeing someone, Greg."

WHY did you have to say that? Why? Great, now I have to tell her I was the first one to slip up on my own rules.

"She is?" Greg blinked, "wow…she never said anything to anyone about it."

"Maybe that's the way you should play it too," Gil suggested, "send the analysis over to my office when you're done," he commanded, and left quickly before he could let anything else slip out.

He had barely sat down at his desk when Sara knocked on the threshold of his office door, "Catherine wants to see you in the morgue," Sara said, "she's having trouble identifying what the possible weapon was from our victim," she then explained.

Gil nodded, "Sara…" he drew his breath, "come in for a minute – shut the door."

"Have…I done something wrong?" Sara asked, immediately seeming quite concerned.

"No…but I have," Gil put both hands on the desk, "I might have…uh…said something to Greg."

"Like?"

"That you happened to be seeing someone."

"You what?" Sara blinked, "wasn't it you who was making rules about secrecy?"

"I know. I also said I'd probably be the first to break them, and I am sorry about that," Gil said sincerely, "I didn't know what to do – he was intending to ask you out. He thinks you're on some kind of high from receiving that homemade valentine of his," he explained.

"He was going to ask me out? That's sweet," Sara admitted thoughtfully.

"No, it's not. It's very wrong…remember, you're supposed to be with me?"

"Isn't this breaking the rules? Talking about us at work during working hours?" Sara asked smirking

"What else could I do? I needed to give you some warning," Gil sighed, he then shrugged, "anyway, I'm the boss. I can make and break rules if I want," he reminded, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

"Are we having breakfast after the shift?"

"Yeah, looks like we are," he gestured to his desk, which was virtually clear of paperwork save one folder.

"Am I on glue or has all the paperwork gone?" Sara glanced around to see if he had perhaps hidden it somewhere.

"Got rid of it all. Came in two hours early, as long as I keep on top of it, I won't need to stay back in the mornings to make sure I get the priority stuff done before leaving," he replied, he got up, "think about where you want to go for breakfast – try and think of somewhere you haven't been with the others. This way, there's less chance we'll run into anyone we know," he suggested.

Sara smiled and nodded, "okay," she touched his arm in a tender way, "I'll…uh…see you after work then."

"Yes…" Gil smiled. "Stay back until the others have left, then meet me at my car," He felt a strange urge to kiss her goodbye while they were behind the safety of the closed slats of the blinds of his office windows, but before he could give it anymore consideration, the office door swung open, it nearly knocked Sara over, so that Gil had to grab her before she stumbled and fell.

"Grissom, I need—oh," Catherine had begun, then stopped, noting his close proximity to Sara, his hands were holding her arms in a strong masterful way.

"You know, you could have knocked," Gil said, then cleared his throat, "You just about knocked Sara off of her feet when you swung the door open like that."

"Sorry," Catherine said, "Gris, I need your help in the morgue."

"Yes, Sara told me," Gil replied calmly, he slowly let go of Sara, feeling rather foolish and almost as if he'd just been caught in the act doing something he shouldn't have – which was definitely not the case.

"Excuse me, I have…uh…important things to do," Sara said, sheepishly excusing herself and disappearing out of the office without another word.

"She left in a hurry," Catherine commented in a rather knowing manner.

"She had important things to do," Gil pointed out.

"Yes, I'm sure," Catherine said, "Come," she gestured towards the door, "I need you in the morgue."

"You aren't going to say anything to anyone about this are you?"

"Grissom, do you remember that thing you used to tell me – what was it now? Oh yes. 'Answers in the question'," Catherine smirked

"Yeah, but with you that could mean anything," Gil teased.

It had been a long time since Gil had ever looked forward to getting out of work, but this particular day he felt the end of the shift couldn't come quick enough. He spent ten minutes staying back after the shift had ended, pretending to be finishing off various odds and ends until the rest of the team had left. Then, he grabbed his jacket, shut the light off, and locked his office door.

Sara was standing by his car just as he'd told her to, he was glad to see she hadn't brought her own car today, it at least gave him an excuse having her there next to his car. If anyone should see them together and ask he could say that he had offered her a ride home.

Gil opened the car door for her, "I thought this day would never end," he confessed wearily.

"Same, here," Sara responded, she smiled at him as she climbed in, her eyes sparkled at him through the glass of the window as he shut the car door for her.

Gil got in at his side, "have you thought about where you want to go?"

"Actually, yeah," Sara responded, "I thought…maybe, since we're playing this secrecy game, that the best thing to do would…be to go to my place…and I can cook something."

"You told me you can't cook."

"You can do it then and I'll watch," Sara joked.

"I know you're joking, but why do I get the feeling that I will end up cooking breakfast anyway?" Gil asked with a smirk. "But okay, if you want to just eat at your place, that's fine."

_Is it fine though, Gil_? He wondered. _Being alone with her in her comfortable apartment eating breakfast is risky, isn't it? What if she tries to kiss you, what then? Will you be able to hold back_?

On the way to Sara's apartment, they stopped to pick up groceries. Sara had confessed she hadn't stocked up the cupboards lately and thus if they expected to have breakfast at all, they needed to buy it first before they could cook it.

In the 24-hour supermarket, Gil felt very out of place walking beside her, it almost felt as if they were shopping together as a married couple, he'd never had that situation before, but he imagined this is what it felt like. He tried to hide how truly uncomfortable he was by forcing a smile whenever she glanced in his direction or asked him a question.

His mind kept wandering, which made the whole shopping experience worse. Going to her apartment left him with questions. She had admitted expecting the direct approach from him – what if she wanted that this morning. What if she expected after breakfast they should make love? What then?

Am I being stupid in thinking she might? He wondered, they were passing by the toiletries aisle on the way to pay for Sara's purchases, and he found himself absurdly pondering if he should excuse himself and run up that aisle to get condoms just in case.

_I'm being stupid, we're not going to have sex this soon – I told her that, in a round about way, the other night,_ he shook his head at himself in dismay.

After paying for the purchases they left the supermarket. Gil still felt odd, his mind a whirling chaos of the kind of thoughts he'd never had to worry about for years – the kind of thoughts he'd avoided thinking about altogether, especially where Sara was concerned.

"You look stressed out," Sara commented casually as she watched Gil sliding the bags of groceries into the back seat of his car.

"I'm fine," he assured, although he was lying through his back teeth.

"If you're not, you can just say so, what do you think I'm going to do if you say you aren't fine? Do you think I'll freak out?"

He closed the back door and turned to her, "there's nothing wrong with me, I'm fine, really," he patted her arm as if to reassure her, then he opened her car door for her once again.

Sara passed by him to get into the car, as she did so, she very casually reached out to stroke his face as if it were something she'd done a thousand times. It startled Gil but he said nothing, he simply closed her door after her, and climbed in at his own side. He felt somewhat flustered now. Her touch still felt as if it was lingering on his cheek, his flesh was tingling with it.

"How has your day been?" Gil asked casually once they were back on the road and heading towards Sara's apartment.

"Long," Sara commented, "and after you told me you accidentally let it slip that I was 'seeing someone' to Greg, I ran into him in the hall, and he said he'd heard a rumour that I had a new boyfriend, and he was asking all sorts of questions."

"What did you tell him?" Gil asked, he turned down Sara's street, and kept his eyes on the road.

"That I was seeing a guy, and that's all," Sara shrugged. "After he found out I wasn't giving out information, he left it at that. He did look a little disappointed though."

"He would be. He wanted to ask you out, and then he finds out someone got there first…I'd certainly be disappointed too," Gil confessed.

Sara smiled softly, "well…you've no need to be disappointed," she reminded.

"I know, for once in my life, I have a reason to get up in the morning other than work," Gil commented honestly, he was surprised by his own openness.

"You don't get up in the morning," Sara said without missing a beat.

"You know what I mean," he shrugged.

"Yeah…I know…" Sara nodded. "I know exactly what you mean."


	13. Chapter 13: Always

**Chapter 13**

**Always**

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"I still can't believe you can cook that good," Sara said after breakfast, she'd let Gil demonstrate how to make pancakes – it was something she'd never really tried to do before.

"When you live alone for as long as I have, you have to learn some domestic skills," He shrugged, "especially if you like food that isn't from a microwave, but don't want to eat out every night to have it," he added.

Sara was washing dishes at the sink, Gil stood and watched her, he was sipping on his second cup of hot coffee. He'd offered to help with the dishes, but Sara insisted she do it – especially after he'd cooked dinner.

"Have you always lived alone?" Sara asked very suddenly, "I mean, since…y'know, growing up and moving out of your parent's house?" she asked, "I've known you for so long, but…I don't know much about you in that respect. You're such a dark horse," she teased.

Gil shrugged, "I had roommates in college, but, well, I kept myself to myself, I was practically invisible," he assured, "I've had a few roommates out of college – when I was down on my luck with money and needed a place to stay I had to rent rooms in total strangers apartments until I had enough money for my own place…" he explained.

Sara watched him all the while, glancing over her shoulder at him as she cleaned the dishes, there was something very questioning in her expression.

"I've never lived with a woman, if that's…what you meant though," Gil finished off, he let his eyes meet hers, briefly.

"Seriously?" Sara asked, she put the last dish in the rack and dried her hands on a small towel.

"Seriously," Gil replied, now feeling quite uncomfortable, he felt this revelation might have been far too personal to have let out just yet. What was she thinking of him? He shuddered to think.

"I'm sorry, I know I'm being nosy, it's just…I hardly know anything about you other than what you do at work and how you act at work," Sara explained, "you're such a mystery to me."

"That's sometimes a good thing," Gil sipped his coffee again, so that it gave him a reason to be quiet at that particular moment, he was hoping she wouldn't ask him any more about his personal life. He was still very uncomfortable sharing anything with her about himself.

Sara picked up her own cup of coffee from nearby and took a sip, then she said "How many serious relationships have you had?"

Gil spluttered on his coffee, "Uh…" he coughed, "none that count as far as I'm concerned," he mumbled, he felt his cheeks flushing.

Sara blinked, "oh?"

"Yes," Gil put his coffee down, he wiped a few spots of spilled coffee from his shirt. He wished he could escape after having embarrassed himself so much in front of her right then.

Sara just smirked a little, "oh," was her response, she looked down into her coffee cup, the corners of her mouth still twitching in a smile she was trying to hide.

Gil watched her for a moment, the sun had now risen and was spilling through the window spilling it's shimmering light upon her, her dark brown hair caught the light, and seemed to sparkle. As she was kissed by the magic light of morning, he was tempted to kiss her, but he resisted. He looked away from her, he felt awkward and out of place, he glanced down to his feet and pretended to find something interesting in a scuff on the side of his left shoe.

Sara was standing as if she wasn't sure what to do now, she'd made coffee, and she'd done dishes. Now she was standing idle, looking as beautiful as she always did.

_God, I hate these awkward silences_, Gil thought, he tried to look for something to say or do, something that would take away this awkward idleness he himself had. He glanced to his coffee, which was almost finished, and decidedly, he picked up the cup and moved over to spill the leftovers down the sink.

Now that he was closer than before, Sara tried to catch his attention, "Grissom," she said in her softest voice.

Gil didn't turn to her, he turned on the faucet and rinsed out his cup. "Hmmm?" he asked, he put the cup down on the rack on the counter.

"Look at me," Sara said.

Gil took a deep breath, he really didn't want to look. He was afraid if he did he might lose all reservation within himself.

Sara reached over towards him, took his face in her hands and turned him so that he did look at her.

_I feel like a child_, he thought as his eyes met hers. _She's so much better at this than I am, and I'm so much older that this feels like it should be the other way around. Why does she make me feel like a helpless inexperienced teenager every time she comes near me?_

He drew his breath, watching as she leaned in closer. Sara's lips brushed very lightly against his for barely a split second, and then she moved away, smiling slightly, "you need to stop feeling nervous around me," she said softly.

Gil stammered, "thank you," he gave a nervous laugh, "but…y'know, I really should get going…" he said, "I…need some sleep before the next shift – and so do you."

Sara nodded, "I know," she rolled her eyes and smiled all the same as if she'd expected this to be his next response.

Gil picked up his jacket from where he left it and he pulled it on. Sara led him towards the door, she seemed relaxed and happy, he on the other hand was on edge and unhappy – not unhappy with Sara, but unhappy with himself. He just couldn't get used to this relationship no matter how hard he'd tried.

_It's early days, Gil,_ he reminded himself. In two weeks, or two months, things will be different. You'll feel more comfortable around her eventually – that's if you can last that long in a relationship with Sara at all.

Gil stepped outside as she opened the door for her, but he stopped in the hallway and turned towards her, "I'm…really sorry," he said.

"For?"

"For not quite…being as…good at this with you as I probably should be."

"It's fine," Sara assured.

"It's just…I'm not quite…used to this," he confessed openly, and wished he hadn't, he feared she might see into his very soul.

"I know. Me either," Sara said, "I just hide it a lot better than you do," she teased.

Gil smiled then, he realised of course this would be just as hard for her to get used to – especially since he was after all her boss. That had to feel awkward somehow. "I'll see you at work, Sara," he said softly.

Sara nodded.

He didn't kiss her goodbye as he left, he couldn't quite bring himself to.

_At_ _some stage you're really going to have to start kissing her, Gil._ He thought angrily,_ She's not going to be forever with your cooking her food and plying her with wine or coffee forever._


	14. Chapter 14: A Bone to Pick

**Chapter 14**

**A Bone to Pick**

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The next three weeks went by in a blur. A serial killer case left the whole of Gil Grissom's team in a complete overworked frenzy – no one seemed to have time to think of their personal lives. He and Sara saw very little of each other than at work during that fortnight. Everyone in the team had been raw, as this serial killer in particular was more brutal than anything they'd ever experienced. Everyone seemed preoccupied and jarred in their own way, and no one had been able to concentrate on anything other than work.

Everyone had been angry, or distant, even Greg Sanders had been rather withdrawn and brooding in his lab, overworked and overstressed by the workload that had come in during this time. Catherine had been walking around in a strange daze, and Sara had been working overtime with a furious determination to try and solve the case.

In fact, there had only been one time in two weeks Sara and Gil had seen each other outside of work, she'd invited him over to her apartment for what she deemed an attempt at a relaxing night – to distress and get their minds off of the case. They'd ordered food in and watched movies.

Both had been pensive that night – and instead of relaxing and enjoying the night, they'd both become rather tense. There was no doubt in Gil's mind that this uncomfortable date had been the result of nervous tension from work, but as one of the rules he'd set was that they don't discuss work within their personal relationship, he hadn't thought to ask her if she was bothered by the case.

Gil had been thankful for the distraction, it had given him some breathing room and he had known that any romantic distraction could cause severe havoc with this particular case.

It wasn't until four days after the case had been solved that the whole team seemed to miraculously recover from this three week period. For the first time in three weeks, as Gil walked down the hallway towards the break room, he heard laughter, and it lifted his heart ever so slightly.

"What's so funny?" he asked as he leaned in to the break room.

Catherine and Sara were standing by the wall looking at a piece of paper, Warrick and Nick were the ones who were laughing.

Catherine held the piece of paper towards Gil, "I got another love note, this one is a classic. Love poem with humour…"

Gil stepped in and took the note from her, "Roses are red…violets are blue," he read aloud, "sunflowers are yellow, bananas are too…" he trailed, off, he went to the next verse, "birds make music, bees make money…I hope you like poetry better than money."

"I thought it was cute," Catherine laughed.

"Catherine…" Gil cleared his throat, "is this guy STILL stalking you?" he gestured to the note. "This is serious…this has been going on, what, a month now?"

Catherine shrugged, "it's romantic, and I definitely think it's someone I work with, I'm thinking probably this cute officer who started working here about two months ago," she explained.

Gil handed her the note back, "just be careful, okay?" he asked, "I gotta go – I have to get some stuff processed in the lab."

"So…Sara, I was…uh…talking to Greg…he said you have a secret boyfriend," Warrick suddenly said to Sara, and this sentence made Gil stop at the door and turn back, to listen.

"Greg is talking through his ass," Sara mumbled, she tried to be nonchalant. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh come on, look at your face, you're blushing – you've got a guy. How come you didn't tell anyone?" Nick asked, he was laughing softly.

Gil leaned into the threshold of the door, "maybe it was no one's business," he suggested.

"Oh, come on," Warrick rolled his eyes, "Anyone who has any business has it spill out into work sooner or later – we'd all find out eventually," he pointed out, "so…come on, Sara…who is he?"

"He's…no one, just a friend," Sara pretended to be preoccupied with the cup of coffee she was holding.

"Must be more than a friend, you've been practically glowing all month," Catherine said knowingly, her eyes shifted to Gil momentarily then back to Sara.

"Glowing?" Gil asked of Catherine.

"Smiling, singing, humming…this last three weeks, it's been less often than before, but these last four days, she's been practically walking on air," Catherine pointed out, she had that knowing smirk plastered on her face so thickly Gil was convinced it might take a well sharpened scalpel to cut it off.

Sara glanced towards Gil sheepishly, although no one but Catherine really noticed, and then she spoke, "he's just a guy…that's all I can really say."

Gil had a feeling he might have to reprimand Catherine later for putting him and Sara in this spot. He knew Catherine wouldn't intentionally hurt either of them, this was just her way of having a little fun by putting them in awkward positions.

"What's he look like?" Catherine asked as she poured herself some coffee.

"Uh…" Sara looked immediately panicked, "he's…good looking," she shrugged, she turned away completely from Gil, "blue eyes and all that," she added absently.

Gil panicked, he was almost convinced that despite she'd been vague that someone would somehow know Sara was talking about him. He decided that perhaps the best way to exclude himself from being suspected was to play along with Catherine, "How long has this been going on, Sara?"

Sara blinked once again and turned to gape at Gil, as if she couldn't believe he was playing along with Catherine, "uh…since Valentines day…" she responded in a slight stammer, "is…something wrong with that?"

"As long as your personal life doesn't spill into your work, I'm fine with it," Gil shrugged, he caught the look on Sara's face, she seemed very dismayed.

"Just think, Grissom, if you'd been just that little bit quicker, you might have had Sara," Warrick joked.

"I think not," Gil said with a wry smile, "I'm married to my job, remember?" he said, "Catherine, a word, if you please?" he asked, and then left the break room.

Catherine followed him along the hall to the lab, they stopped outside of the closed door, the hallway was quiet as it usually was at midnight.

"I don't appreciate those little games of yours," Gil stated firmly to Catherine, "don't ask questions like that again, please…"

"You can't have been too against the game, you joined in," Catherine reminded.

Gil kept his voice down so that it barely was audible "Look, I know you know what me and Sara know, but I don't want anyone else to know. It's still tentative at this stage, if you screw this up for me, I'll make sure you NEVER get promoted," he threatened, although he really didn't mean this, and he knew Catherine understood this also.

"Fine, fine," Catherine nudged his arm, "play it all secretive. You could at least keep me in the know every so often. I always tell you everything," she pointed out.

Gil smirked, "Yes, sometimes more than I need to know."

"I have a bone to pick with you…"

Gil had been searching through a large box in the storage room when Sara caught him off guard, he jumped, spinning around, having not heard her enter, nor shut the door. Her voice had echoed off of the cold walls and gave him chills, she didn't sound happy and he knew at once why.

"Uh…is this work related?" Gil asked quickly, he hoped his mentioning this would deter her from wanting to say anything about what had happened earlier. He pretended to be preoccupied with looking for a piece of evidence from a case two years old.

"Well it certainly wasn't in the break room," Sara said insolently, folding her arms. He found it somewhat appealing that even the angry expression on her face seemed to make her even more beautiful.

"Uhm…" Gil began, "I…uh…"

Sara raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. When she realised that none was coming, she spoke once more, "were you laughing at my expense, putting me in that position?"

"No…I…" he sighed and left the box alone, he walked over, praying that he wasn't about to be slapped, "I just…panicked."  
"You panicked! Meanwhile I was standing there with everyone interrogating me and you did nothing to help!"

"Hey, I did suggest that it was no one's business."

"And it didn't help," Sara fumed. "This secrecy thing is bad enough but when you're emphasizing the secrecy even more by joining in with the rest of the teams stupid interrogation games, it's screwing me over!"

Gil felt helpless, he couldn't even find the words to respond.

"It's like you're playing games. You played enough games this last four years. One minute you're flirting, the next minute you're acting like you don't know how I feel…I can't take it."

Gil drew back from her, he put up his hands, "Y'know…this is the reason I don't like relationships…"

"What are you talking about?" Sara looked at him blankly.

"This…this thing here…fighting…arguing…whatever it is," he sighed and went back to the box he'd been raking through. "I'm not good with this stuff…I always do the wrong thing in every situation."

"What, is this your quiet little 'I'm retreating from this whole relationship before it's even begun' speech?" Sara demanded.

Gil turned to her, "I really don't want to get into this at work, Sara. I'm trying to find a belt here," he gestured to the box.

"You're avoiding the question," Sara laughed at the absurdity of this. "You think we should break up because we've argued."

"Break up? Sara, we've hardly been together," Gil pointed out.

"Gil, if you break up with someone every time you have a tiny disagreement then you'd never—" Sara suddenly paused, "Oh. Right," she said, as if she suddenly realised this might be the reason for his having been single for so long.

"I…never said I wanted to break up," Gil responded, "Sara…can we please get back to work here, before someone walks in and overhears something…"

Sara sighed, "fine," she said behind clenched teeth, "just don't put me in that position ever again, Gil…" she frowned.

"I won't..." Gil assured, he drew his breath in nervously, "are we finished?"

"In the conversation sense, at the moment, yes," Sara said, "as for the question of 'us'…" she trailed off, as if she might be considering ending it all right there, she headed towards the door as if to leave him stressing about the answer to his last question.

"I'll make it up to you," he blurted, "tomorrow – on our day off. I'll take you out for dinner…proper dinner, in a restaurant…"

Sara stopped, her hand on the door handle, she glanced at him over her shoulder, her brown eyes were softening. "Okay…" she said, sounding uncertain now.

Gil moved over to her, "I told you, I'm not good at this…you knew that when we got together…" he said in a quiet tone.

"Yes, yes, I know…" Sara looked away from him.

Gil touched her shoulder, trying to be as tender and loving as he could manage, "I'll take you out for breakfast after the shift…I really will make it up to you…"

Sara chewed her lip and remained pensive for a moment, "alright…alright, you're forgiven."

"Okay," Gil smiled, "now get back to work."

* * *

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. They really make my whole day - especially the longer reviews, I get so tickled pink seeing the compliments. I don't think I've got the characters exact as they are in the show, but I get so giddy when people say I get them right nonetheless. Thank you :)

Chapter 15 should be up within a day or so :)


	15. Chapter 15: Old Friend

**Chapter 15**

**Old Friend**

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Gil sent a text message to Sara's phone after work instructing her where to meet him after work for breakfast. He'd chosen an out of the way 24-hour diner out of random. It wasn't the most romantic place to take someone you cared about for breakfast, but it seemed the most convenient at the time.

He chose an out of the way booth that hid him from view through the windows, he ordered coffee and sat patiently waiting.

There were only two other people in the diner, and one of them was a rather tired looking waitress who was in her late thirties, she staggered about as if in a daze, her hair a tangled mess poking out from under her cap.

_Sara is late_, he realised as he looked at his watch. He now pondered if perhaps she intended not to show up at all. _She's probably going to punish me for what I did during break by not standing me up_, he thought sourly.

He ordered a second cup of coffee, and was halfway through drinking it and had begun to think about leaving when he heard Sara's car pulling up outside in the parking lot outside the diner. The street was silent and the diner was quiet, it made any sound from outside seem extreme, and Sara's car had several problems – including the engine being rather louder than it should have been.

Gil had to lean up and glance over the back of his bench to see her coming through the doors. She spotted him at once.

She took her seat opposite him, "sorry I'm late, I got lost trying to find this place, I had to circle the area four times before I saw it."

"I thought you weren't coming," Gil admitted, he blushed momentarily, then tried to compose himself, he gestured for the waitress to come over, and they ordered their breakfast without saying a word to each other.

"Do you think I'd really stand you up?" Sara queried once the waitress finally left to get their orders.

Gil picked up a small paper packet of sugar and examined it, just to give him something to do, "well…I don't know, I guess I thought you might do it to get back at me for earlier today."

Sara drew her breath, "don't think that the thought never crossed my mind," she said, but then she smiled to indicate it were a joke. "We've had much worse arguments – work related of course – and we've survived them. We can get over this no problem."

Gil sighed, "I don't know, though," he shrugged, "this…is different."

"How is it different?" Sara asked.

The conversation went on hold as a waitress came with coffee for Sara and a refill for Gil, when the waitress disappeared again, Gil spoke.

"Because we're 'dating'," he stated, he realised it might have been wrong to put so much emphasis on the word 'dating', because Sara seemed to immediately pick it up.

"You say 'dating' as if it's a questionable thing," Sara took a sip of her fresh coffee, and winced at how hot it was.

"Sorry," Gil stared down into his cup, he ripped the packet of sugar open and poured it into his coffee, although he was unsure why as he didn't even take sugar in his coffee in the first place. "I just never know what to call it," he said, "dating sounds like a temporary thing, you know, which I don't think this intended to be," he explained. "But…I find it hard to try and call the relationship anything else because…we're not exactly lovers or anything," he felt incredibly stupid trying to explain it to her.

"We could be," Sara said, "we've been technically seeing each other since February fifteenth. It's not too soon to start thinking about taking the relationship further, Gil," Sara took another sip of her coffee.

"I know that," Gil responded, he sighed. Truthfully, he wished he could just let go of his inhibitions and take the relationship as far as it could go right there and then – or perhaps at least wait until they had left the diner. But he knew there was no chance he could, it was too soon, he still wasn't particularly comfortable with her touching him in the way she did, even the morning before when she'd put her hands on his face and kissed him in that soft tender way.

Honestly, he didn't want to be used to it either, he was afraid that she might just suddenly take it away once she tired of his company. If this happened, it might break his heart, especially if he was too close to her already.

Sara reached over and took his hand boldly, "but…" she trailed off, finishing her thought, "we need to get you over this shyness of yours first…before we think about taking the relationship to any other level," she stroked the top of his hand with the tips of her fingers.

"Okay," he nodded, looking down at their hands, fascinated, he adored the strange tingles that came with her touch.

"It still stuns me that…you find it so hard even saying things to me when you kissed me like you did that time in your car," Sara admitted.

Gil laughed nervously, "I know…it stuns me too."

"I think that was the biggest surprise you ever gave me right then," Sara admitted, "I just never expected you to do that…never in a million years. It was so…I don't know un-Grissom-like."

He laughed, "is there such a word as 'un-Grissom-like?" he asked.

"There should be," Sara grinned. "Y'know in the team when any of us get this…thoughtful pensive look in a certain way, we call it the 'Grissom look'," Sara said.

"Interesting," Gil responded.

Sara smirked, "yes, it is."

"Sara!"

Sara spun hearing her name, her hand left Gil's instantly.

Gil turned to see who had spoken, there was a tall rather good looking gentleman standing there, his long blonde hair swept back from his face, his eyes an indescribable shade of blue. He seemed ages with Sara, if not maybe just a little older.

"Jeremy…" Sara blinked, "Hi…what are you doing here in Vegas?"

"I moved here six years ago for my job," the man known as Jeremy explained. "And you?"

"Same, really," Sara said, she seemed to almost forget about Gil's presence completely.

Who is this guy? Why is he here and why doesn't he just leave? Gil thought angrily.

"Your dad taking you out to dinner?" Jeremy gestured to Gil.

Gil's mouth dropped, he tried to think of something very smarmy to say to the young man, but nothing came to mind.

"Uh…no, he's not my father," Sara responded.

Gil looked towards Sara, was she going to tell this stranger his real connection to her. He wanted to hear her say it – although he wasn't sure how she'd explain it.

"This is Gil Grissom…" Sara gestured towards Gil. "My boss."

Gil blinked. _Is that all I am now, her boss_?

"Gil Grissom – THE Gil Grissom?" Jeremy said, he seemed stunned, "of the crime lab? He doesn't look anything like he does on TV."

"It's the beard," Gil uttered.

"We're just about to have breakfast," Sara said, trying to hint for the man to leave.

"Actually I was just heading out, only came in for coffee to go. But anyway…if you ever want to go out for drinks some time or something…give me a call…" Jeremy suggested, he took a card out of the pocket of his suit jacket, and handed it to her.

Gil wanted to snatch the card from Sara and rip it up and tell Jeremy not to hold his breath.

"Thanks…" Sara trailed off, "But…y'know…" she began.

"I really have to go," Jeremy said. "Call me," he added, and then sped off with his cup of coffee.

Sara rolled her eyes, "He hasn't changed."

"Who was that?" Gil asked, trying to hide the detest in his voice.

"Uh…an old friend…we dated in college. He's a lawyer," Sara gestured to the business card.

Gil couldn't find anything else to say after this. He fell completely silent, brooding about his age. Sara seemed none the wiser. Which, he somewhat, was thankful for.

* * *

Thanks to everyone for the reviews so far - I love hearing from you all :) 


	16. Chapter 16: Crisis

**Chapter 16**

**Crisis**

****

* * *

****

Gil stepped through the doors of the nearest drug store to the diner shortly after parting with Sara. He hadn't exactly known what he was doing, he felt almost as if his body were in automatic pilot while the rest of his mind were somewhere asleep in his head.

The drug store was quiet, a young girl was behind a counter flicking through a Cosmopolitan magazine out of boredom of lack of customers. Gil swallowed his pride, and marched over to the counter.

"Excuse me," he said to gather her attention, she looked at him, a little alarmed she hadn't heard him come in, and she put the magazine away quickly.

"Don't tell my boss," she said in a whisper, gesturing to the hidden magazine, "I'll get fired."

"It's fine," Gil assured, he gave her a nervous smile.

"How can I help?" she asked, she was in her early twenties, she had hair the colour of deep rust, eyes the shade of milky coffee, and freckles that made her appear somewhat younger than she obviously was. The nametag on her uniform spelt out 'Sue' fine black letters.

"Well, uh, Sue," he said, not really understanding why he'd needed to use her name at all, "I'm…well, just in querying about something…" he explained, he leaned on the counter, he kept his voice hushed in case any customers decided to walk in and overhear.

"Is this a medical problem?" Sue asked in a quiet hush.

"Oh, no, nothing like that…" Gil assured.

"You want to buy condoms?" Sue asked, "most guys always whisper at the counter when they come to buy condoms, but it's no big deal."

"No, its not that…" Gil tried to remain calm, "I'm really here for…" he looked around, "Well…it's kind of embarrassing really," he admitted.

"Oh?" Sue seemed intrigued, she leaned a little closer over the counter, straining to hear him speak so softly.

"How old do you think I am?" Gil asked in an absurd impulse he hadn't quite expected of himself at all.

Sue seemed taken aback, she tucked her rusty coloured hair away behind her ears, "uh…I dunno…"

"Go on, take a guess. I won't be offended."

"Fifty…?" Sue shrugged.

"Actually, yes," he answered, he felt his cheeks turning furious red, he felt truly humiliated. He wished she'd said forty. "I need…something that's going to…I dunno, take at least a few years off me."

"Ohhhh," Sue nodded, "I get you. Hairdye?"

"Would that work?"

"Sure," Sue nodded, she left the counter area, she gestured towards a shelve at the back of the store, "we have a wide selection, actually – there's brands that are just for men."

Gil grimaced, he didn't understand why he was doing this at all. Sara hadn't ever made any comment about his age, and so far the only person who really had was this Jeremy he'd met in the diner. But it was embarrassing. He wondered how many times he'd been outside with Sara and been assumed to be her father.

_If anyone finds out about me and Sara…they'll call me her sugar daddy or something, or say she's looking for some kind of father figure_, he thought.

"What was your natural hair colour?" Sue asked, she was scanning the shelve with a keen intent, she had the look of a woman on a mission.

"Uh...hard to say, it's been so long since I saw it," Gil joked nervously, he touched the gelled curls on the top of his head absently.

"Black?" she asked.

"Uh…yeah…" he said nervously and he strived to remember if that was true. He'd hardly paid attention to his hair through his life to notice. It was hair…he had it cut when it needed cut, he washed it when it needed washing, he wore a hat over it when it needed protecting from the dust, and he combed it when it needed combing, it had no other relevance in his life.

Now it was a nuisance. A pile of grey to remind him of every single year he'd been alive, and probably to remind everyone around him how much older than he was compared to Sara.

"Wouldn't going straight back to black though be a bit severe?" he asked.

"It would, I guess," Sue picked a box from the shelf, "this stuff washes in and washes out," she explained, "the longer you leave it in, the darker the colour will be. If you don't like the colour, you just give it some washes and it'll fade."

"How many washes?" Gil asked.

"About eighteen."

"I'll take it…" Gil replied rather quickly.

_I must be crazy_, he was silently thinking.

"You have a young face," Sue said as she led the way back to the counter, "y'know, if you shaved that beard off…" she trailed off, and left the thought unfinished as she rang the box of hair dye up on the cash register.

Gil touched his beard, he'd spent a while growing it, he wasn't sure if he could part with it just yet. But perhaps Sue was right. She herself was young, and surely her opinion was better than his own.

"Thank you, Sue," Gil said as he paid, "This has been…informative."

Sue just smiled, and watched as he left.

When Gil got into his car, he threw the box into the glove compartment with complete detest.

_Why am I doing this, I can't go and dye my hair, I'm old, I can't escape from it. Dyeing my hair isn't going to miraculously turn back the hands of time_, he thought_. Is this a midlife crisis? Am I having a midlife crisis? I'm obviously having some kind of crisis here_...after all, I never cared about my hair before.

He sighed and thought of Sara.

I didn't care until now, anyway…it's Sara. She's doing this to me.

Everything logical within him screamed that he should end the relationship with Sara now before he ended up changing everything in his life to accommodate her. That today it was only hair dye, tomorrow it could be a diet, and by next month it could be marriage.

He let his head rest on the steering wheel for several moments as he sat parked there, he tried to think straight. _What would Catherine say_? He wondered.

Gil could picture Catherine clearly in his mind, and could almost hear her words. She'd say something along the lines of _'take a chance, who cares what you have to do to keep her, just get your head up out of that microscope and do it before you lose her – or you'll end up spending the rest of your life wondering about it_,'.

Gil started up the car, took a deep breath and decided that he'd do whatever he had to do. He couldn't go back to being alone again never knowing if he'd ever love. If dying his hair just so he could look younger to keep Sara's interest was necessary, then so be it.

* * *

Yes, I realise it's getting out of character now, but I can't help myself. The show has tortured us for so long with the "will they won't they" thing, that i cna't help but want to torture Gil's char just for him not having gotten together with Sara by now, lol.

Ah, anyway, it's kind of humourous. To me at least.


	17. Chapter 17: Shocked

**Chapter 17**

**Shocked**

* * *

****

Gil regretted going to work that night. The moment he'd gone through the doors into the building and seen the receptionist look at him strangely he'd known it had been a mistake.

_Be honest, Gil, you knew it was a mistake before you'd even opened the box. You knew it was a mistake when you saw it in the mirror_, he shook his head at himself in disgrace.

He'd wanted to hide in a big black hole and not come out for several weeks – or at least until the hair dye faded away completely.

He deposited his jacket and his kit in his office, and then left to go to the common room to hand out the assignments that had been left on his desk, as he walked he sifted through the folder of print outs. He passed by the lab and although he wasn't looking, he could feel Greg Sanders eyes happen upon him through the glass. Gil picked up his pace and hurried to the common room.

When he stepped into the common room, he heard Catherine's audible gasp. Sara had been sipping coffee and spluttered, where as Warrick almost choked on his gum. They all looked at him with their blank faces as if he might have been a stranger who had just sauntered in.

Sara's expression was perhaps the most blank of all.

"Who are you and where did you hide the real Gil Grissom?" Catherine finally managed.

"Very funny. Remind me to write 'sense of humour' in your next evalutation," Gil remarked sarcastically.

"What have you done to yourself?" Catherine asked, she stood up to walk over and examine further as if she couldn't quite believe her eyes.

"He's found the fountain of youth, I think," Warrick snickered.

"Assignments," Gil took a seat, trying to change the subject quickly.

Sara was looking at him questioningly, she looked alarmed, her mouth hanging open, her dark eyes wide.

Gil felt considerably stupid. He'd gone to lengths to dye his hair, but he'd shaved off his beard too at the suggestion of the girl from the drugstore, and he realised the results were far too severe – perhaps incredibly too severe for a man of his age.

_This is humiliating_, he thought as he glanced around him, their expressions were all still completely shocked. He tried to shrug off the embarrassment by thinking of work.

"Cath, Nick," he cleared his throat, "victim found dead in a nightclub," he handed the details to Catherine, "and Sara and Warrick – missing woman under mysterious circumstances," he handed the details for this case to Warrick.

"Uhm…" Sara cleared her throat, "is there any reason for this…uh…particular new look you've taken on?" she was smirking a little, she stood up and moved to Warrick to see the details for their case.

Gil winced, okay, now he definitely understood how she'd felt yesterday. _So this is what they call payback, is it_? He thought.

"it's a long story," he glanced towards her warningly. "One that I'm not going to go into," he added, a sharp bite to his tone.

"Must be a younger woman," Catherine teased, she nudged his shoulder playfully, and winked at him, then left the common room with Nick tagging behind.

Warrick glanced to Sara, "I gotta go grab my jacket from my locker, I'll meet you at the car."

Sara nodded, and watched him go, she and Gil were left alone in the common room, she was standing two seats away from him.

"Don't say a word," Gil warned, his cheeks blazing red.

"It's very, uhm…" Sara began, her eyes were dancing as if she might be ready to laugh.

"Don't," Gil put up a hand, pointing a finger at her, "not one…single…word," he stood up quickly, "I have lots of work to do – and so do you. Excuse me…"

"Okay, so…is this a midlife crisis thing, or what?" Catherine asked as she dropped herself into the chair opposite his desk during dinner break. Gil was still feeling so humiliated and in an attempt to avoid any questions being asked he'd decided to eat on his own. "First the dating a younger woman, then suddenly hair dye and clean shaven?"

Catherine's beeline right to his office hadn't surprised him though, she always seemed intent on getting to the bottom of things, and after what he'd done to his image, he had expected her to have come to his office to query about it long before now.

Gil simply looked at her, and didn't answer, "is there something you wanted."

"Yes…I wanted to know what stunning shade of black you dyed your hair with," Catherine pursed her lips together to stop from laughing. "Come on, what happened? Suddenly the fifteen year age difference between you and Sara hit you like a brick in the face, did it?"

"No, it didn't," Gil slipped his glasses on and pretended to be more interested in reading the book he'd been reading whilst eating his sandwich.

"Then what?"

"I don't know, okay. I felt like a change," he grumbled.

"You don't like change," Catherine responded, "which is probably why it's taken so damn long for you to actually ask Sara out."

"What makes you think I was the one to ask her out?" Gil suddenly asked, he looked at her over the frames of his glasses.

"Because usually these things have to be on your terms or not at all," Catherine folded her arms comfortably over her stomach. "But wow…this must be love, Gil."

"Why do you say that?" Gil glanced over at her from behind his book.

"Because you've never gone to this kind of extreme for any other woman," Catherine answered, "and god knows, there's been quite a few of those through the years," she added.

Gil put his book down, "not as many as there's been for you," he responded rather insolently.

Catherine merely laughed, "all I'm saying is that you've never gone and dyed your hair for any other woman…"

Gil sighed, "Look, I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you afraid she'll leave you for a younger guy or something?" Catherine asked.

"Catherine, pleased, I'd love to maintain whatever miniscule scraping of dignity I have left," Gil put his book down with an angry thud.

Catherine's voice softened, "you know you can talk to me."

"I know that, I just don't feel like talking about it," Gil stood up and grabbed his jacket, "I'm going out."

"Where?" Catherine raised an eyebrow.

He frowned, "Out…field work or something, I don't know, just out."

As he opened the door just before leaving he heard Catherine say the words "yup, midlife crisis."

"Midlife crisis," he uttered under his breath after climbing into his car forty minutes after his shift had ended. He'd chosen to leave later to avoid running into any of his team as they were leaving. He wasn't in the mood for the embarrassing questions right now. The only question he himself was interested in was how he was going to somehow get back to normal by tomorrow.

Gil shook his head at himself, he felt like banging his head repeatedly off of the steering wheel until perhaps some of the sense he had once maintained might return to him.

He heard a knock at the drivers side window, and he turned to see Sara standing there, she was wiping her hands on a rag, she had an oil smear on the front of her dark green tee.

He rolled down the windows, "hey," he said softly, "I thought you'd be home by now," he admitted.

"Well…I probably should be," Sara admitted, "except my car just…basically died again," she sighed.

Gil might have offered to fix the car for her, but it was dark, and set to rain. Fixing a car in those conditions was somewhat impossible, "I'll give you a ride home," he offered.

Sara smiled, "thanks," she said softly. She went away to close the hood of her car, and lock the drivers door, then she climbed in at the passenger side, and pulled on the seatbelt.

Neither of them said anything for most of the drive to Sara's apartment building, although Gil could feel it building up. An apprehensive curiousness that wasn't going to fade any time soon.

"Ask it," he finally sighed, it being the first thing he'd said since he'd offered to drive her home.

"Why."

"I don't know why," he said shaking his head, "I keep doing these incredibly stupid things lately…things that just defy all logic…for me at least," he admitted, he stopped at a red light.

"I think I preferred you as you were."

Gil turned to look at her, "are you serious?"

Sara gave a slight nod, "yeah," she answered, she wasn't looking at him though, she was paying attention to the traffic lights up ahead.

Gil leaned over and kissed her cheek impulsively, overjoyed by this statement, "thank you," he murmured near her ear, then composed himself again in his seat.

Sara smirked at the very quick display of affection from him. She suddenly turned to him, "this isn't about what Jeremy said, is it?" she asked.

"Uh…I don't remember anything he said," Gil made a gesture over his head as if the comments had quite literally passed by him.

"Thinking you were my father," Sara reminded.  
"I thought nothing of that, statement," Gil lied very quickly, he looked back to the lights, the lights changed to green, and he accelerated, then turned down Sara's street. "I forgot all about it."

Sara reached over and ran her finger across his clean shaven face, "I miss the beard," she confessed.

"It'll grow back," he assured.

"And this…?" she touched his hair.

"Washes out – so I was told."

"I hope so…it just…I don't know, it isn't you."

"I know, I know," he shook his head at himself again.

Sara remained silent for a moment or two, then she turned to look at him, "You don't need to look young to be…attractive," she admitted. "I always thought you were good looking…especially with the grey in your hair…" she admitted, sounding quite pensive.

Gil sighed, "It was a stupid, stupid, stupid thing to do. But at least I've learned a lesson."

"Which is?" Sara asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked, "The next time I get an impulse to change my image – I should just ignore it."

* * *

I had too much fun writing this chapter.

Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, it means the world to me, it really does.

Thanks to gglovebug for not only saying she was enjoying my fanfic, but also giving me advice about GSR music video making :)

- SS


	18. Chapter 18: Heart Sore

**Chapter 18**

**Heart Sore**

* * *

Sara invited Gil for coffee after he had driven her home, and Gil had accepted despite he was more interested in going home and getting some sleep. He felt incredibly drained all of a sudden and now was convinced he might have forgotten to feed his tarantula. Something, he felt was possibly a result of having been more concerned with his own image than the welfare of his pets.

"Just so you know," Sara said as she was unlocking her door, "I nearly slept in for work, I had to rush around yesterday to get ready and I haven't cleaned in two days, so please try not to make a face of disgust as you see the mess," Sara opened the door to step in.

"As long as there's space on the floor to walk, I don't mind," he chuckled softly, he followed her inside. The apartment wasn't as bad as Sara had suggested.

Gil's eyes roved quickly, as was habit of someone walking into someone else's territory. There were scattered clothes on the couch, an ironing board had been left by the wall and a basket of un-pressed clothes sat beside it. A rather plain looking bra – in a rather absurd shade of purple – was hanging from the room divider beside a pair of matching cotton panties.

"Uh…" Sara grabbed them quickly off of the divider, "pretend you didn't see that. This is where I dry things," she grinned sheepishly, she moved to the basket of laundry, lifted the first item of clothing on top and hid the underwear beneath it.

Gil raised an eyebrow, "purple?"

"Don't get into the habit of asking about my underwear unless you're prepared to have me ask about yours," Sara commented, knowing it would instantly make him drop the subject.

Gil gave a slight cough, "deal," he mumbled.

Sara picked up a few CDs she'd left scattered on the table, "I didn't think I'd left the place this messy. I must have been whirling through here like the Tazmanian Devil, or something…"

"Sara, it's fine," Gil assured, he slipped his jacket off – which was splattered with the rain that had just begun to fall as he'd gotten out of the car – and hung it on the room divider. He deliberately threw her a playful look as he did so, she smirked although she tried to hide it.

Sara put the pile of CDs onto her bookshelf, and then she moved over to the kitchen to start the coffee. Gil left her to her own devices, whilst he wandered the apartment. He found another bra lying on the coffee table in front of the couch. This time it was a black lace one that somewhat intrigued him more than the other one had.

He found himself wondering how a woman could race through her apartment tossing bras and panties everywhere like confetti in this strange manner. He certainly wouldn't leave his underwear lying in his living room.

The CSI in him couldn't help but grab one of the pen's from the table, and use the capped end to pick the bra up by the strap.

Sara watched him from the counter, her expression caught between amused and livid, "investigating, are we?" she asked.

"Just wondering what purpose ladies underwear has on the coffee table," Gil answered, he raised his eyebrow, holding the pen up, the bra dangling from it.

"You won't kiss me, but you can find a world of fascination in my underwear. Would you like to just go through the rest of my underwear now and sate your curiosity?"

"It just reminded me of something."

"Oh?" Sara asked, very much interested, as if she thought he might bring up a woman who might have had a similar piece of underwear.

"Before you ever became to Vegas…we used to have these annual baseball games – I was on the team briefly …" Gil began.

"Baseball…bras…I don't see the relevance," Sara said, she was spooning fresh coffee grounds into the percolator.

"I'm getting to that," Gil assured. "So..me and Cath were on the same team…and this one particular game we were in tie with the other team. There was this one guy on the other team who was intent on making Catherine feel inferior because of her sex…she was the only woman playing."

"Stupid thing to do to make Cath feel inferior," Sara confessed.

Gil nodded, "So anyway…she was getting furious with this, as you can imagine…she whipped her t-shirt off – she's standing in this bra that's almost practically see-through – almost like this," he gestured to the bra on the pen, "ended up getting the attention of the guy who at the time was running for base, he tripped and rolled and cost his team the game, our team won, but Cath was disqualified and forbidden to play in the next annual game."

Sara laughed, "are you serious?"

"Yes," Gil answered, "someone at the lab even had photos of this game – they were on the bulletin board in the hall until she took them down," he grinned. "Should I throw this into your laundry, also?" he asked, swinging the bra on the pen.

"No, actually, that one's been worn," Sara commented casually as she took some cups from the cupboard above the counter.

Gil made a face, "then it belongs elsewhere, don't you think?" he asked, "don't you have a clothes hamper or something?"

"In the bathroom," Sara said, "you know where that is, right?"

Gil knew where her bathroom was located but he'd never been in it before, "Yes," he answered, and headed off in that direction.

Her bathroom was very tidy compared to the rest of the apartment, in fact, it was almost laboratory hygienic, which amused him somewhat. As he was dropping the bra into the white wicker hamper in the corner, he glanced around.

He was always interested in the things people kept in their homes, but bathrooms could be especially fascinating. He was always interested in finding out what people kept in their bathrooms, as it seemed to say a lot about the person and their daily rituals.

A shelf on the wall caught his eye, and he moved over to examine what sat upon it. Sara had one bottle of perfume on the shelf, which he couldn't help but take down and open to take a light sniff. Gil put it back and investigated further into her bathroom belongings. The rest of the shelf consisted of an unopened packet of soap, a bottle of shampoo and conditioner that were still sealed, some generic brand aspirin, and a glass jar filled with all manner of hair clips and bands – most of which he knew she'd never wear in her hair at all.

Then something on the shelf else caught his eye, and intrigued, he picked it up. A small white round flat box, he recognized it at once without even needing to open it.

_Birth control_, he thought, feeling somewhat immediately panicked. It had never occurred to him at any point she might have been on birth control, and it felt somewhat alarming.

There were a lot of new questions that arose just knowing she had birth control in her bathroom.

_Is she using this already? Or is she planning on using it soon? Does she think me and her are going to…start having sex soon? Or…is she already having sex with someone else right under my nose? Maybe this…Jeremy guy…?_

"What are you doing?"

Startled, he spun around to the door where Sara was standing, her arms were folded, she was looking at him quizzically.

"Uh…" he put the box on the shelf quickly, "sorry, I was just looking around," he shrugged, "I've never been in your bathroom before," he added.

"It's a bathroom…you're not going to find anything interesting in here," Sara pointed out.

_Not true. What I just found is definitely interesting,_ he thought somberly.

"C'mon, coffee is still percolating, but we can watch the news while we wait."

Gil followed her through to the living room, glad she hadn't seemed to be aware of what he'd been looking at. They sat down on the couch, a few inches apart, and watched the news, the smell of fresh coffee began to flood the apartment, and Gil felt his tired senses begin to awaken.

When the short news programme had ended – with no real topics to catch their interest – Gil and Sara turned to look at each other. Sara was looking at his hair again as if she still couldn't quite believe it. Gil meanwhile, was still dwelling on what he'd found in her bathroom.

"Are you sure that stuff washes out?" Sara asked.

"I hope so," Gil admitted, "or I might have to consider shaving my head to get rid of it…" he touched his hair absently.

Sara reached over and touched his hair, "reminds me of the first time I saw you, your hair was this dark."

"My hair was never this dark," he grumbled.

"It looks fine, Gil, it's just…different."

"Tell that to the hundreds of staring eyes that have been following me up and down the hallways at work all day."

Sara let her fingers slide down from his hair to his temple to his jaw in one fluid motion, her thumb stroked his cheek tenderly, her eyes softened as she stared into his.

He stared back into her eyes, wishing he could be as bold as she was. There'd once been a time in his life where – although always having a somewhat painfully shy side – he'd been able to emote quite easily to women. With Sara, it was different. She meant more to him, and this seemed to complicate it all so much more.

Right now, this tender moment was the most frightening thing in the world to Gil Grissom. He'd never been in a situation where he loved someone so much it seemed to almost physically cause him pain.

Being in this situation, he felt, was like being dropped down in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean without anything to help him stay afloat. He could only swim for so long before he would eventually drown.

_No…stop thinking that_, he chided himself angrily_. This relationship is not the Atlantic, you are not drowning, and if you were drowning, she wouldn't let you, she's the one thing that will keep you afloat._

He closed his eyes to savour the sweet way she stroked his face, and found himself wondering if this ache on his heart would ever completely subside. He'd thought that being with her as long as he had, surely now that ache would have died by now. It seemed to grow stronger, and he was scared of it.

"You okay?" Sara asked very quietly, very aware of how silent he'd been for several moments. Her voice had been so soft, no more than a breath.

"You make my heart sore…"

Gil hadn't premeditated saying this at all, but it came out so fluidly and sincerely, that he didn't regret it after having let the words spill from his lips in a soft murmur. An immense rush of delight hit him. This admission, as honest and somewhat risky as it was to declare, was exactly what he'd been trying to accomplish with her for some time – express himself honestly.

He kept his eyes closed, he didn't want to open them yet. He was scared that once he opened his eyes, the moment might fade away, and that as long as his eyes were closed, he could somehow hold onto it, as if the moment would be trapped in the infinite darkness behind his eyelids as long as he didn't open them.

Sara's warm breath tickled his lips. He felt her hand press against his chest, his heart throbbing beneath her palm.

_She's touching my heart_, he thought. The gesture did more than touch his heart emotionally, it seemed to inflame it, made the ache all the more stronger.

Her breath became so much hotter on his lips, she was closer, and yet, she'd paused barely a few centimeters from his face, he could sense that closeness, and he wanted to close that space between them completely.

_This is it, this is the real kiss you've been waiting all this time for_, he thought_. If there was ever a perfect moment for you to kiss her, this would be it_…

He leaned towards her, sensing where her lips were by following the direction of her soft breath. His lips barely grazed her own at first, light as the touch of a feather. He started in a series of short tender kisses, he drew his idle hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, his fingers sliding into her soft brown hair.

It felt like his very first kiss all over again, so much so that his real first kiss so many years ago faded into a lost memory he never wanted to regain.

The kisses grew longer, but remained still as tender, he buried his hands in her hair, drawing her closer to him than before. Now, the kiss was long, and lingering, with no stops in between, his lips moved expertly over hers, his fingers caressed the nape of her neck.

When he felt the kiss was becoming too heated he began to shy away, determined he would not let himself get carried away and ruin the moment. He finished in the way he'd started, with short soft kisses, letting more and more time pass between them until breathless, he stopped, and let his forehead rest against her own.

Sara was breathing just as heavily as he was, her face was so hot he could feel the heat emanating from her.

Gil drew in a deep slow breath, trying to get his excited heart to slow it's desperate beat, he stroked her cheek lovingly, and in a typical Grissom way, he absurdly remarked, "I think the coffee is ready."

* * *

I think this has been my most favourite chapter to write so far...hehe. 

Thanks to the people who keep reviewing, especially the long reviews, as always, it just tickles me pink.

Special mentions to CrysWimmer, kristy87, djkittykat, wp1fan, in particular for reviews more than 2 lines long, ;)

- SS


	19. Chapter 19: Personal Questions

**Chapter 19**

**Personal Questions**

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"So," Catherine Willows said as she stepped into the break room to find Gil pouring himself a cup of coffee from the freshly percolated pot. She shut the door behind herself, "your youthful looks starting to fade already, huh?" she gestured to Gil's hair, which after several washes, was now more of the shade of dark grey rather than the severe black it had been the day before.

"Yeah, I guess I need to invest in some Oil of Olay or something," Gil mused, he sipped his coffee. He was in early again, to deal with the paperwork before it back logged again. He was very impressed by how he had managed to keep on top of it so far, although he was convinced that it was only a matter of time before it started to pile up on his desk in the same old way.

He and Catherine were the only two in the break room, the others having not arrived yet.

"Catherine, you look positively lovely today," he took a moment to compliment Catherine, who was dressed in a very stunning grey pinstripe suit. He realised, since she was in far earlier than usual, that she'd probably come straight from court, she'd had to testify in a case she'd been involved in three months previous.

"Well, you're in a very chipper mood," Catherine moved over to pour herself coffee, "is there a particular reason you're so happy, or did someone just slip you some lithium into your coffee when you weren't looking?"

"Why shouldn't I be happy?" he asked rather seriously, then brightened, "I have Las Vegas' finest under my command," he gestured towards Catherine, "I caught up almost all my paperwork – even inventory requests," he continued in an enthusiastic tone, "And most importantly," he added, smiling, "the coffee today actually tastes…like coffee," he took another sip.

Catherine smirked, "and none of this has to do with getting lucky, huh?" she put sugar in her cup.

"No," Gil said, he reached into his pocket to take out a piece of paper, "I received this when I got to my office…" he said.

"What is it?" Catherine asked, she put her coffee down and grabbed the piece of paper, her curiosity piqued as she unfolded it.

"I've been asked to lecture at the University of Edinburgh in Scotland," he said.

Catherine paused, her eyes glazing over for a moment as if she were deep in thought about something, "Edinburgh…that's the city with the nineteenth century bodysnatchers, isn't it? I remember you telling me the story."

"Yes," Gil nodded, recognizing her reference to Burke and Hare.

"Wow, that's quite an honour, isn't it…?" Catherine scanned through the letter quickly.

"I'll say," he was grinning from ear to ear.

"So…you'll get to meet the guy who cloned that sheep?"

"I'd like to think so!" Gil said excitedly.

Catherine raised her eyes from the letter to Gil, "what about Sara?"

"What about her?" Gil asked, "I'd be gone for one week, I'm sure she'd survive."

"Actually, I was going to say why not take her with you…" Catherine shrugged. "It says here you can take a member of your staff. You should definitely take Sara."

Gil just gaped at her, "For…?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"A week away from Vegas, from the lab, from us," Catherine glanced back to the letter. "That's an opportunity begging to be taken, Grissom," she was grinning as she looked back to him again.

"I couldn't do that," Gil said quietly, "Man and a woman going away for a week together? It'd be too suspicious," he reminded, "and it'd be very unprofessional of me," he added.

"Grissom, you used to take me to your lectures in New York, and Boston. No one ever thought it was suspicious." Catherine reminded. "Anyway, from a professional point of view, you always said it'd be 'good experience'."

"And it was," Gil reminded, "some day you could be lecturing too. It's like a free vacation and being paid to talk about what you love to do," he leaned against the counter.

"So…if you'd take me, why not Sara?" Catherine asked.

"Because," Gil said simply, but decided not to explain any further, he pretended to be more interested in drinking his coffee.

"Because…?" Catherine pushed the subject.

Gil sighed and rolled his eyes at Catherine, "you never let up, do you?"

"All I'm saying is that it might be a good opportunity for you and Sara to break free for a while – without work being an issue, is all," Catherine pressed on.

"Cath…there are issues here. I'm trying to keep my personal life and my work life separate. Taking Sara with me might just be asking for trouble. And anyway, there's a difference between asking a colleague," he gestured towards Catherine pointedly, "and then asking the woman you're seeing romantically," he reminded. "I can easily say to you 'lets go to Edinburgh' and it can be platonic, because we're not involved, but if I asked Sara…" he trailed off.

"Ohhhh," Catherine trailed off, "You haven't slep—"

"Keep your voice down," Gil hissed, "I don't need the whole building hearing this…"

"The door is closed and no one cares," Catherine retorted, "the only relationship everyone else in this place thinks you have is with your pet spider," she smirked. "So…you must be taking it pretty slow then, still not having slept with her and all."

"Why do you ask such incredibly personal questions all the time?"

"Force of habit," Catherine gave a nonchalant shrug.

They both turned as Sara came strolling into the break room, she looked wide awake and as cheery as Gil had been moments before Catherine had begun to interrogate him. "Hi," Sara said brightly.

"Try the coffee, it doesn't taste like motor oil anymore," Gil suggested, he smiled widely at her, despite his attempt he was trying not to. Despite his determination to keep his personal life separate from work, he couldn't help but deliberately use the word 'coffee' upon seeing her just to remind her of the soft romantic kisses of earlier this morning.

"Wow, that calls for a celebration," Sara joked, she pursed her lips together after this, and she moved over to the coffee pot. Sara poured herself some coffee, and she stared down into her cup, a content smile playing about her lips. Gil could see she was thinking about this morning now, she seemed almost dazed for a moment or two.

"Grissom was just telling me about this letter, Sara," Catherine decided to bring up, with a careless nonchalance that Gil somewhat envied.

"Letter?" Sara asked, breaking herself out of her reverie.

Gil glanced towards Catherine, he tried to use his eyes to plead her not to do this to him, but he doubted his eyes had any impact on Catherine at all.

"Gil's been asked to lecture at The University of Edinburgh," Catherine explained, grinning.

Gil lowered his head, blush creeping into his cheeks, and the absence of his beard made him very aware how much it probably showed.

"That's great," Sara said, looking towards Gil, "that's a really an honour."

_Please, Cath, don't do this to me, don't_! He pleaded in his thoughts helplessly.

"So anyway," Catherine continued, "We were just discussing who should go with him," she handed the letter back to Gil and threw Gil a look that made him feel like a helpless child under the attack of a bully at school.

"Go with him?" Sara asked, looking back to Catherine, she took a sip of her coffee, her eyes fell to the cup once again, she was still dwelling on those kisses.

"Yes. He's allowed to take a member of his staff – it's supposed to be an excellent learning experience, you see," Catherine explained, "He used to take me to his lectures but I got bored of all that traveling, and sitting there having to listen to him talk for hours and hours," Catherine stifled a yawn, "it can be very tedious."

"I bet," was all Sara could comment.

"So…Grissom," Catherine shrugged, "who're you going to ask?

_Nice tactic, Cath_, he thought sourly. _Corner me into it so that I have to ask Sara to avoid hurting her feelings._

"I already told you I was going to ask Sara," Gil lied, he felt incredibly guilty for lying, he had to look away from Sara when he said this as to not draw attention to the guilt in his eyes.

Sara blinked, "you want to take me?" she seemed surprised of course, her brown eyes widened, "is that wise?"

"It's a great learning experience – and you basically get to evaluate me as a lecturer," Gil explained, "technically, you'd be a student observing and nothing else."

"But…" Sara began, then remembered Catherine was present and decided against whatever she had intended to say.

"If you don't want to attend, it's fine," Gil assured, "it's not compulsory, and I can ask anyone else…" he shrugged, "I just…uh…thought you might be interested in…uh…this…excellent opportunity, to…uh…travel to the UK, and uh…yeah," he trailed off, half stammering.

"Okay," Sara shrugged, "sounds like fun. I've always wanted to go to Scotland."

"Great," Gil said, he held back on the urge to clench his teeth.

I'm really going to have to get revenge on Cath for this one, Gil thought, he frowned at Catherine, his eyes slightly squinting.

"Don't make faces, Gris, you look like you're constipated," Catherine smacked him playfully on the arm finished her coffee, tossed the paper cup in the trash, and left the break room.

Sara sucked in a breath, "uh...is this, uh…lecture thing…purely professional?"

"Of course it is," Gil said, "I want you to have this opportunity…"

"Cath…does know…about us, doesn't she?" Sara asked.

"Yes, she does," Gil responded.

"She didn't push you into asking me, did she?"

"No, she didn't," Gil lied, he felt it was safer than disappointing her. Besides, perhaps Catherine was right. Maybe taking Sara away with him would be an excellent opportunity to build their relationship without worrying about the complication of work at all. This trip had the added luxury of time – which due to work schedules was very hard to come by.

_So, pro, I get a whole week with Sara_, he thought, and then he winced. _And con…she might think I want to sleep with her…_

* * *

_Thanks to everyone who keeps reviewing! _

_Thanks to: _

_PhDelicious - for pointing out I have bad grammar. I know, can't help it and if I spent too much time focusing on it, I'd never get anything done, lol_

_phoenix38133 for taking the time to PM me to review since just likes to be very picky with peoples computers (conspiracy I tell ya!)._


	20. Chapter 20: Grissom's Bagpipes

**Chapter 20**

**Grissom's Bagpipes**

****

* * *

****

Sara's mood had stayed constant throughout the whole shift, the smile never seemed to leave her face, and if it did, it was only momentary. She'd make jokes she normally wouldn't make. Secretly, Gil supervised Sara and Greg in the Garage as they reconstructed a murder.

He found it hard to suppress the smiles himself, but feeling at risk from seeming incredibly goofy and rather obvious, he had to force himself to maintain a professional and nonchalant expression whenever someone happened to come along.

Standing at the door out of eyesight of Sara and Greg – who were absorbed in what they were doing – Gil watched Sara almost obsessively.

_This is what you're not meant to be doing, Gil. You're meant to be doing work, not watching her thinking about this morning_, he thought.

"Evidence shows that the vic had bruises on the underside of her wrist," Sara gestured to the dummy, she had marked off the dummy's wrist with coloured chalk to indicate where the bruises were. "And then…on the top of the wrist on her other hand," she lifted the wrist of the dummy, "was this smaller bruise…" she laid out pictures on the floor for comparison.

"You said the attack was brutal," Greg said, "and that most of the bruises were inflicted before she died – but she died more than likely during the rape?"

"Yes," Sara said, "asphyxiation."

"So how could he have suffocated her, and still held her back?" Greg asked, looking down at the body. "He'd have needed three hands, one hand to hold each wrist, and then another hand to suffocate her."

Gil decided to interject, "Or he only used one hand to hold her down," he stepped in.

Sara blinked, looking at him, her cheeks flushing momentarily, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long. Just supervising. It is my job you know," Gil smirked, he moved over to where Greg and Sara were kneeling on the floor beside the dummy.

"Suspect has small hands, how could he get one hand around two wrists," Sara asked.

"Easy," Gil knelt down, he positioned the wrists of the dummy down on the floor, crossed themat the wrist, he pressed his own hands down upon them, trapping thewrist underneath tightly, "like so."

"But if his hand wasn't around the victim's wrist completely, how do you explain the bruise on the topside of her wrist?" Greg asked, he stood up as if to get a better view of the dummy.

"Something was on the ground," Gil suggested, "a pebble, or something. If the top of her wrist was pressed down on the ground ontop of something and enough pressure was applied, it could leave a bruise."

"Why didn't I think of this?" Sara smirked.

"I don't know, distracted, maybe," Gil shrugged, he stood up and dusted the knees of his pants. "You would have thought of it eventually," he added with a gentle smile.

Greg folded his arms, "she's been grinning all day," he said, "I think she's thinking that week free of Las Vegas, running in Scottish moors and trying to take a glimpse up men's kilts," he teased.

Sara laughed a little, "moors?" she asked, "we're going to a city, Greg."

"Oh," Greg said silently, "so…have you told the new boyfriend yet that you'll be going away for a week?"

"Uh, actually, no," Sara said, she glanced to Gil as if she expected him to come up with some excuse for her to leave the conversation quickly.

Gil missed her looking at him entirely, he pretended to be more preoccupied by picking up and looking at the photos of the recent murder they were working on.

"Aren't you worried he'll take it the wrong way?" Greg asked.

"Why should he?" Sara asked, she moved beside Gil to look at the photos he was now flicking through.

"Because you're going away for a whole week – with your boss," Greg commented. "I mean, to us it's obvious that there's no way in hell you're going to be playing Grissom's bagpipes—"

Sara and Gil both raised their head at the same time to look at Greg in dismay at the euphemism. Sara turned her head, her cheeks burning red. Gil had some very graphic images of bagpipes and naked women, and he tried to force them out of his mind completely.

"But to any other guy…especially one who's dating someone who spends ninety-five percent of her time at work, that's gotta raise some suspicions."

Sara tried to laugh it off, "Playing Grissom's bagpipes?" she asked.

Gil was becoming rather embarrassed by this remark, "uh…Greg, remind me again, do I pay you to stand and come up with crude innuendo?"

"Uh…no…" Greg fell silent for one short moment, then jokingly commented, "that one was on the house."

Sara stifled her laughter on the back of her hand, as if the joke about bagpipes had just finally hit her, her eyes danced and glittered in the overhead light.

Gil looked away, he had to purse his lips to keep from laughing at the absurdity of the situation. He'd always thought Greg to be rather perceptive, and found it so amusing that Greg seemed to have no idea that he – Gil – and Sara were romantically involved. It was even more amusing when he added the memory of Greg's comments about the only man being right for Sara was possibly Gil Grissom himself – and there was always that comment a month ago when Greg had admitted he didn't know what Sara saw on him.

"I need to get back to work," Gil looked at his watch, he shook his head, "and you, Mr Sanders, need to get your head out of the gutter, thank you," he shook his head as he began towards the door.

"Hey, Grissom…" Sara called out to him.

"Yes?" Gil asked as he stopped, "can I have a ride home? I had a tow truck pick my car up this morning and I still don't have it back yet."

"Sure," Gil shrugged, he expected some suspicious expressions and a few unsavory comments to follow, but Greg didn't seem interested anymore, he was picking up the dummy and hoisting it onto his shoulder.

Sara was about to turn.

"Or I could drop you off at this boyfriends of yours if you like," Gil suggested. He knew, that again, Greg wouldn't pick up on the comment at all. He knew, however, Sara would take it as an invitation to breakfast.

"Uh, okay," Sara nodded, "sure…he's up that early," she shrugged.

Gil nodded, "alright."

"I could have driven you," Greg said quietly.

"You drive like a maniac," Sara retorted.

Gil laughed and left the two to get on with their work.

"Hi, bagpipe man," Sara said as she met Gil at his car at the end of the shift, she grinned brightly, as he opened the door for her. He'd waited outside of the car for her, catching some of the fresh air of the early morning.

Gil flushed, "What was Greg THINKING with that comment?" he asked with a roll of his eyes. He tried to shake off the embarrassment as he got in at his side, "I mean, really…bagpipes?" he asked in disbelief.

"Some really weird images flew through my head the moment he said it," Sara put her seatbelt on, and made her self comfortable.

"You're not the only one," Gil confessed, "I don't think I'll be able to hear bagpipe music ever again now or I may feel compelled to blush whenever I do."

Sara snickered, "you blush already," she pointed out, she reached over and turned on the radio.

"You do too," Gil started the car, and pulled out of the parking lot, "or at least you did – when Greg said it."

"I was shocked. Who would have expected him to make that kind of euphemism?" she demanded, her eyes wide.

"I should have expected it," Gil mused, "so…my place for breakfast?" he asked.

"Sounds good," Sara nodded, "By the way," she cleared her throat, "I have something important to tell you," she

"You do?" Gil asked. For some reason, his mind flew back to yesterday morning when he'd found the birth control in her bathroom. Could she about to make some revelation about that right now?

"Yes," Sara said, "Now…don't freak out…" she began softly.

Gil glanced at her quickly before turning a corner in the car. She has to bring it up at some point, surely she had to have seen the box in my hand.

Sara smirked a little, "my boss has asked me to go away with him for a week to Scotland, of all places."

Gil felt relief flow through him, she was playing games, that was fine, it was better than getting in a lengthy discussion about why she had contraception in her bathroom – although this seemed perfectly obvious already. "Oh?" he asked.

"Yeah. I just thought you should know – just in case, you know, you think I'm being whisked away for an affair, and playing his bagpipes."

Gil pursed his lips together, he wanted to laugh but felt it might be in bad taste.

Sara grinned, "you're blushing again."

"I'm trying to concentrate on the road," he lied, he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as she even pointed it out.

Sara laughed, "okay," she shook her head at him, laughing under her breath.

"You're making fun of me," Gil uttered.

"Sorry," Sara chewed her lip, she reached over to the radio and began to play with the tuning for a station she liked.

"Must you play with my radio?"

"Would you rather I played with your bagpipes?" Sara joked.

Gil winced, "this bagpipe joke is getting old already."

"I'm sorry," Sara found a station where a commercial advertising a Canadian beer was running, and she at once recognized a familiar instrument being played in the theme music, "oh, listen…bagpipes."

Gil reached over and turned the radio off, "I don't want to think about bagpipes ever again," he admitted.

"How will you deal with that when you get to Scotland?" Sara asked.

"I'm not sure," Gil shrugged, "Perhaps I can focus on Haggis."

* * *

This was WAY too much fun to write, I practically giggled my head off, but then I have no life...

Ahhh, anyway, thanks to the people who keep reviewing, I want to name them all but at the moment I'm finding it hard to concentrate with this headache (too much laughing caused it more than likely).


	21. Chapter 21: Singing

**Chapter 21**

**Singing**

It was that very same night – their mutual night off – Gil arrived to pick up Sara to take her to dinner, as promised days before. He felt awkward, he hated dressing up, it always made him feel as if he were drawing unnecessary attention to himself, and he was never comfortable in a suit but he felt it was finally time to make the effort.

If this had been any other date, he might not have bothered at all, the right pants and the right shirt could pass for being perfectly acceptable even in the classiest places. But this wasn't any other date.

_This is technically the first official date_, he thought in a panic as he climbed the stairs of Sara's apartment building. _The other times don't count – it was almost just like friendly visitation than anything else_. _Hardly romantic…hardly what she might expect._

Gil felt flustered by the time he'd gotten Sara's apartment door, he stood there for a few moments, trying to compose himself accordingly. He wanted to run and panic, but he'd already knocked, so that was now out of the question. If Sara was fast enough, she might have time to catch him by the collar before he escaped completely.

The door opened, Gil drew in a breath and straightened his posture, and stared ahead. She was a vision. She'd always been beautiful, even wearing the oldest faded jeans and most casual shirt she could find. Nothing could have prepared him for how enchanting she was as she stood there. She was clad in a plain black spaghetti strap dress, the simplicity of it accented her slender neck, the faint freckles on her shoulders, and the length of her long slender legs.

Gil felt his heart leap into his throat and he had to swallow hard to force it back down. He looked her up and down again, having to give himself more time to appreciate the curls of her hair, the soft pout of her pink lips, and dusky colour adorning her eyes. The only piece of jewellery she was wearing was a simple bracelet which was silver with zirconium crystals which sparkled when she moved. Her feet were bare, and he found this, perhaps, the most charming of all.

"You're early!" Sara admonished.

"I left early to beat traffic," Gil replied, finding his voice, "but the roads were surprisingly quiet," he added.

Sara let him in, she padded across the floor barefoot, "I haven't even gotten my shoes on…"

"It's okay, there's no rush. Reservation is for eight, it's only twenty past seven," he pointed out on his watch.

He noted the glass of half consumed red wine on the coffee table, looked like she'd been drinking again, although he decided to let it slide.

Maybe she was just trying to soothe her nerves, he thought as he watched her disappear into her bedroom, he felt compelled to follow and did so – she was already dressed, what harm could it do?

She was sifting through a drawer in her dresser, he moved over to see what she was looking for. He stood behind her, looking over her shoulder, "lost something?" he asked.

"Necklace that goes with this bracelet," Sara said, she was being careless and fast, as if she felt hurried. He watched her reflection in the large mirror of the dresser.

"Calm down," he put his hands on her shoulders, her skin bare save the very two thin straps of her dress. "We have plenty of time."

"Sorry," Sara smiled at the reflection of him, and slowed down, still looking for this necklace.

"What does it look like?" he asked, always willing to offer a helping hand.

"Like this," she held her wrist out to show him the bracelet. "Its a chain with a pendent matching the links of the bracelet," she explained.

"Okay…move over…you're way too uptight," he said, he watched her move aside, and then stood for moments, sifting through her jewellery drawer.

He was surprised just by how many necklaces she owned – all costume jewellery mostly of course. Most of them he'd never seen her wear before and several of them were still in packets or small boxes.

"You're wearing a suit…" Sara said, as if it was the first time she'd noticed.

"Yes," he responded, he glanced in the reflection of her in the mirror, "why…should I perhaps have not?"

"It's not that, I just…I don't know, didn't expect you to wear a suit."

Gil located a red plastic box and he opened it, revealing the matching necklace to go with Sara's bracelet, "found it," he shook the box.

Sara took the box from him and sat down at the dresser, unhooking the clasp on the necklace and sliding the chain around her slender neck.

Gil watched her, somewhat fascinated by the way she was fumbling and unable to quite manage with the necklace. He hadn't noticed before, but now he could definitely see her hands were shaking. It seemed so unlike his brave, bold and wonderfully courageous Sara. He moved behind her, "let me," he said softly.

Sara handed him the chain in defeat, "god, I'm just…I don't know, freaking out."

"Why?" he asked, he stood fumbling with the necklace for a moment himself before deciding which way it was meant to be worn and how to clasp it. Jewellery was just too complicated for a man like Gil Grissom.

"Really, I don't know," she confessed, she raised her hair as he slipped the chain around her neck. "I just keep thinking someone is going to see us…or…I don't know…"

"If someone sees us, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he awkwardly made several attempts to clasp the two ends of the necklace together before finally succeeding. He had to admit, Sara's concerns were something he himself had been fretting over all day. It seemed too soon for anyone to know, and the thought someone might see them together and mention it at work felt as if it might completely jinx the whole relationship.

Gil placed his hands upon her shoulders when he was finished, he felt the tickle of her hair upon his fingers as she let it down again, he wanted to say she was beautiful, but somehow couldn't manage the words. He stared at her, in awe, the thought her dressing like this might just be for his benefit made his stomach churn in delightfully pleasant ways. She still gave him butterflies.

"Do you want a drink?" Sara asked, still sitting at the dresser, she glanced over her shoulder and up at him.

"Better not…I'm driving," he reminded softly, he squeezed her shoulders affectionately, thrilled by the soft velvety texture of her skin. Finally, words found him, "you…look…" he paused, trying to think of something romantic and charming.

"Nervous?" Sara asked, glancing back to the reflection.

"Exquisite," he finally settled on.

Sara smiled and looked down somewhat bashfully, "you don't look so bad yourself," she stood up slowly, "I just need shoes," she said as if to assure him that she wouldn't take much longer.

"Don't worry about rushing, I told you, there's plenty of time," Gil replied, he watched her go over to her closet and yank the door open. Piles of shoes came tumbling out, he stepped back as if frightful he might be drowned in them.

"Uh…I've been meaning to, uh…do something about that," Sara clenched her teeth, she crouched down to sort through the pile of shoes.

Gil smirked, "shoe fetish?" he asked.

"Hardly," Sara tossed a few shoes back in the closet, "I buy them, and then never wear them because they're uncomfortable," she shrugged. "They always seem like such a good idea at the time," she found the shoes she'd been looking for, and she sat on the edge of her bed to slip them on. "It's rare to find a pair of shoes that are comfortable if you're a woman," she commented.

"You think men don't have that problem?" Gil asked casually, "I've had shoes that have hacked my heels to pieces…probably be cheaper putting a razor blade down each sock."

Sara smirked a little, and she stood up, unsteady on the high heels.

"Can you even walk in those?" Gil asked.

"Of course I can, I'm a woman, walking in heels is an obligatory necessity."

"Right," Gil pursed his lips together, he felt like laughing. He could already tell she'd be staggering in pain and stumbling in a very unbalanced manner. Still, he couldn't tell her what to wear, and he didn't want to hurt her feelings by implying he felt the shoes were all wrong for her.

Sara grabbed a simple black cardigan from where she'd left it on the bed, and she slipped it on, "I'm ready…" she said.

"Me too."

Gil found it surprising that dinner seemed to go without a hitch. He'd been so apprehensive all day, hoping that this one date would go spectacularly, that he'd been so convinced something at some point just had to go wrong somewhere.

First dates normally didn't matter, in Gil's opinion, but this date definitely did and he couldn't begin to fathom out why. After having spent four weeks being in a – albeit slow moving – romantic relationship with Sara, the date going wrong surely shouldn't have much impact. Worst things could happen, he supposed.

_This is our first actual public appearance as a couple_, Gil thought feeling slightly amused he'd deemed it almost as if they were celebrities. But the words 'public appearance' seemed to fit so perfectly.

Stepping out together after work could be deemed as any social relationship with a colleague, nothing to be concerned about, nothing to be gossiped about. Offering Sara a ride home could be assumed platonically. But this was different.

_We've been together in her house, and in my house, but…we've never been together out of the safety of our own homes_, he thought as he sipped his wine, he was trying to focus on Sara as she spoke about a documentary she'd seen during the afternoon on Discovery, and as fascinating as the subject was, Gil just couldn't completely focus at all on it.

_You know what this means though, don't you_? Gil tried to maintain an expression of interest and kept his eyes on hers the entire time she spoke. _You've stepped out together, it's the first step. But the more and more you stay in the relationship, the more and more you're going to be stepping out together in front of everyone – in front of people you know, in front of the people you work with. This is big, Gil_.

"You're…not really listening," Sara finally said, she looked at him, "something wrong?" she asked.

Gil blinked, he sat up a little straighter, "I'm sorry," he drew his breath, "I heard what you were saying, and it was very interesting but…I just kept slipping away."

"I noticed. You had this glazed over look in your eyes," Sara said, "it's like seeing those stoned kids who get pulled in for possession, you see the cops marching them down the hall, they always look so blank and as if they're a million miles away."

Gil took a sip of his water, he glanced down at the table cloth, momentarily distracted again.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Sara asked in a hopeful tone.

"It's nothing," Gil responded almost sharply, but then composed himself to speak again with a little more tenderness than before, "its just…I was just realizing how…things are going to change," he admitted.

"In what way?" Sara asked casually, she took a bite of the chocolate soufflé she'd chosen for desert.

"You know, at home and at work," he shrugged, "we're here now. Someone might see us, like you said earlier. Raises questions, doesn't it? If someone brings it up at work, then we're found out. That might change our whole work situation."

"Is there certain protocol for interoffice dating?" Sara asked, "I know that certain workspaces have their rules and regulations regarding it…"

"I know it's frowned upon but not exactly forbidden…" Gil confessed, "but in our case, I could be taken over the proverbial coals for my past leniency when reprimanding you," he explained. "There's been times when – as your supervisor – I should have, by obligation, taken severe action against you. Complaints from suspects, certain behavior, etcetera," he leaned forward on the table, keeping his voice low, sounding very embarrassed, "given that, the powers that be could find a certain favouritism in my leniency with you and I could end up being demoted, or worse, lose my job," he explained.

"So…you're risking your job for this," Sara's expression was immediately filled with concern, and yet, at the same time, she seemed surprised.

"Yes," Gil said, "does…that surprise you?"

Sara sighed softly, "Yes…it does…because I once heard you say that even for a relationship you couldn't give up everything you worked for," she lowered her voice.

Gil gazed over at her, he wondered when he'd ever said such a thing to Sara, but he was almost pretty sure he'd never said such a thing in her presence, "I said that?" he asked.

Sara gave a slight nod, "anyway, ancient history now."

Gil just stared at her, still wracking his brain for any memory of what she was implying he'd once said.

Sara remained silent, she gazed into her chocolate soufflé. She was pensive, and somewhat somber, and finally, after what seemed like longest time, she spoke. "Gil…I don't think I could live with myself if you lost your job over this…" her voice was a melancholy murmur. "So…if you want to walk away from this, now…I'd understand…and…I don't think I could hold it against you."

Gil could only look at her, her words felt like an icy shock of water down the back. He understood what she was saying. She was giving him an option to back out – to choose her or his job, with absolutely no hard feelings whatsoever.

Sara's face was extremely dismal, and her eyes fell to the table cloth as if she were seeing another world there, hidden in the fabric. Her emotions were blatant, her words had been sincere.

Gil felt a rush of emotions sweeping over him too. This admission by her was what made him realize that her feelings were genuine. She did love him, and if she had to sacrifice their relationship in exchange for his happiness, then she was willing to do it. Electric shivers rippled through his flesh, her words causing the warmth of his skin to turn to cold gooseflesh.

It was time to make an admission to her too. He just hoped his words weren't about to fail him as they always seemed to do at the most inopportune times.

"Sara," he began, he drew his breath and began what he was beginning to feel concerned might be a very long speech, "let me tell you something about myself – and as absurd as it may sound…try not to laugh because…what I'm about to say may sound a little humourous, but I intend it to be perfectly and deadly serious…"

"Okay…" Sara trailed off.

"I don't sing in the shower," he in a very flat tone.

Sara looked at him, he could tell she was beginning to think this was the most absurd statement she'd ever heard.

"But…for the first time ever, this afternoon, caught myself singing…" Gil continued, he began to feel this speech was going in the wrong direction. He tried to save it. "There I was standing in the shower, and suddenly this voice comes out…the song I can't even remember having heard on the radio…I didn't even know the song had made any impact on me, I wasn't aware I even knew enough of the lyrics to sing it…but there I was…standing there in the shower, singing this song…not very well, but I was singing."

"I'm not sure I follow," Sara admitted, she sounded nervous.

"I'm grinning like a moron at work – I suddenly look forward to my days off rather than not looking forward to them at all – knowing that at least on one day I'll see you…I look forward to finishing my shift, not because it means I can finally go get some sleep, but because I'll get to drive you home, and share coffee and breakfast with you, and talk to you without it being work related…" he trailed off. "I'm singing in the shower, for God's sake, Sara," he gave a small burst of anxious laughter. "Don't you get it?"

Sara didn't nod nor shake her head, she waited with an expression of apprehension growing on her beautiful face.

"I'm happy, Sara," Gil finally confessed, "I'm happy because finally there's more to live for than just work…you were right…you said it last month when we were in my car…that if you could just get me away from work maybe I'd see that there was more to life…that maybe the work would drain out to me and the life would begin to sink in…and it has…as much as I'm trying to cling onto work, I can't, because I can't stop thinking about you…"

Sara seemed quite flabbergasted at this revelation. She'd been speechless for some moments now.

"I'm just hoping that what I'm saying will get through to you. I could simplify it in three small words, but this feels so much bigger than those three simple little words, Sara. This is bigger than anything I've ever felt before."

Sara finally found her voice, "I…don't know what to say," she said, but she gave an earnest smile, "I don't think I've heard you ever admit to feeling so much in all the time I've known you…"

Gil reached over the table and took her hand, for once, he hadn't been afraid to do so, "and that means something, doesn't it?" he asked, "Because for once…I'm telling you how I feel…I'm not struggling with the words…I'm not tongue tied."

"I'm bowled over, completely," Sara confessed.

"Me too…" Gil confessed.

"So…what are you really saying?"

"I'm saying…that…" he wanted to say the words 'I love you' but it just felt too soon to say it. Despite how simple those words were, it felt more complicated to say it at this moment in time. "That I'm not walking away from this relationship now. It's taken me too long to get here. Everything's changed, I can't go back now…and I don't want to."

Sara smiled, "Say it again," she suggested, her brown eyes twinkled.

Gil squeezed her hand, "I'm not walking away."


	22. Chapter 22: Planning

**Chapter 22**

**Planning**

****

* * *

****

Gil stepped into the break room that next evening just before the shift was due to start, finding Sara, Nick and Greg sitting drinking coffee, their discussion seemed to be focused on a case.

"Sara," Gil said as he stood by the door, he was holding a leather bound schedule book in his hand, and a pen in the other.

Sara raised her head and turned slightly to see Gil, she looked at him, she kept her expression as casual as she could, and Gil was thankful for it, because he felt if she'd smiled at that moment, even Nick might have picked up on it.

"I need to go over the details for the trip," Gil said, he tapped the schedule book with the pen pointedly.

Sara looked at him blankly, "Right now?"

"We have a busy night ahead of us and we might not get another chance to deal with this so I'd rather get this through with before the shift starts. We have less than two weeks to plan this," Gil explained. He remained composed and professional. This trip wasn't about their relationship at all, and he had to make that clear.

Sara stood, finished her coffee in one swift gulp, tossed the paper cup into the trash, and she followed him to his office. She went to shut the door but he held his hand up to stop her.

"Leave it open," he said, he felt this was best handled as professionally as possible. Closing the door was something that he rarely did unless it was very a personal or delicate situation. The door had been closed too much lately, especially when Sara was inside. He didn't want to raise any suspicions.

Sara shrugged nonchalantly, and shoved her hands in her pockets awkwardly.

"Sit down," he offered gently.

Sara had a very uneasy expression on her face, almost as if she thought something might be wrong.

"Don't worry," Gil said quietly, "I just need to get all this done now…normally the invitations to lecture come months in advance and usually I have all the time in the world to plan such things, but unfortunately this time around everything is happening so quickly that the faster we get this done, the better."

"What's to be discussed?" Sara asked, she kept her eyes on his all the while.

"Trip in general," Gil explained, "I'm scheduled to be in Scotland by the first of April," he explained, "I give the first lecture on the second…"

"First lecture?" Sara asked, indicating that somewhere she'd assumed there was only one.

"The first of four," Gil answered, "since you're going on this trip – and it is expenses paid – you're going to have certain obligations…" he picked up a piece of paper and slid it across the desk towards her.

Sara picked it up, "which are?"

"Attending all of the lectures, unfortunately," Gil leaned back in his seat, "it's part of the learning process," he explained, "that there is the schedule," he gestured to the piece of paper he'd given her.

"What's this dinner date here," Sara asked, she pointed to a date and time on the paper where it had a formal dinner scheduled for the fourth of April.

"Formal dinner with the rector and the professors of the university. Something, also I'm obligated to attend," he explained, "as are you."

"Oh," Sara said quietly, she chewed her lip, "do I get paid for this?" she asked, "or will I lose the whole weeks pay for not being at work?"

"You'll be paid as if you were still at work," Gil responded, "any questions?"

"Hotel arrangements," Sara said all too quickly, which left Gil slightly jarred.

Gil sucked in a breath, "Okay…I already looked into this," he tapped his pen on the desk absently, "The university gets discount deals on booking suites rather than single rooms, but I feel really uncomfortable with that…" he explained, "whenever me and Cath went on a trip together and we'd be thrown into the same arrangement, I'd let her take the suite and book myself a room elsewhere in the hotel," he explained.

Sara nodded, "okay…" she nodded, "so…you'll be doing that?"

"I just think it would be a wiser thing to do given things as they are," he said quietly, after making sure no one was passing by the door, "male and female colleagues shouldn't be forced into those kinds of living arrangements, a hotel suite with two rooms is still very close quarters."

"I can book my own room, Grissom. This is your lecture, you should have the suite."

"I'm not going to argue about this, Sara," Gil looked at her and smiled just a little, before continuing the trip plans, "We do get to travel first class…"

"Only way to travel," Sara smirked.

"Here's where it gets complicated," Gil flicked through the details he'd written into his schedule, "we fly to London Heathrow first," he explained, "We have to stop over for the night," he glanced quickly at her before continuing reading from his notes, "from Heathrow we get a flight to Glasgow, and then from Glasgow, we get a train to Edinburgh…"

"That's a lot of traveling," Sara said, "That's, what, a whole day of traveling alone?"

"I haven't done the math, but I'm estimating sixteen hours or more," Gil shrugged, "not including the sleep over in the Holiday Inn when we get to London of course," he looked at her curiously, "if you're having second thoughts, I can easily go alone."

"It'll be fine," Sara said, "anything else I should know?"

"Yes, there is," he nodded, "I mentioned this before but I think I should explain in more detail – when you attend my lectures, you'll be asked to evaluate me…"

"Evaluate you?" Sara asked, "what for?"

"So many reasons," Gil rolled his eyes, "It's a pain, but unfortunately standard procedure, although I'm sure it won't bother you all that much," he placed his hands on the desk, "your attending the lecture means you're participating in the learning process, and after the lecture, so many of the students are handed out these evaluation forms to fill out, it asks a number of general questions, everything from regarding on my interaction with the class, to how good – or bad – my presentation is. Any bad feedback in the evaluation sheets of course is to be taken into consideration as room for improvement."

"Alrighty then," Sara remarked, and she blinked as if she couldn't quite believe she'd said this phrase.

Gil continued, "you'll be asked to interview a number of random students after the lecture," he explained, "and then you base your evaluation on my lecture though their opinions."

"This sounds very complicated," Sara confessed.

"Now you know why Cath never wants to go anymore," Gil commented, "but…as much work as there is, there's still plenty of time to participate in other activities. As guests of the University, we'll get free admission into several galleries, museums and historical sites," he added, as if this were to sweeten the pot.

"Sounds cool," Sara shrugged, she seemed to be struggling to say objective, but he could tell there were so many questions about their relationship and the impact the trip would have upon it. Her chest rose and fell as if she had silently sighed, Gil noticed immediately.

"Any questions?" Gil asked, he brought out some forms from his desk drawer.

"Yes," Sara answered, "as I'm going to be away for a week…am I going to be allowed to get in contact with my boyfriend at all during the trip?"

Gil remained still for a moment, he understood the question perfectly, "as long as it doesn't interfere with work, I can't see why not…" he admitted, he saw a smile building on her face and he was glad she had her back to the door and no one could see. He placed the forms in front of her, "You need to fill these out, sign them, and have them back to me by the end of the shift so I can confirm everything as soon as possible."

"Okay, will do," Sara picked the forms up, "shift started two minutes ago," she pointed out, "everyone will be waiting for assignments," she reminded.

Gil stood up, "time flies by when you're having fun," he joked, he picked up his assignment folder, "if you have any other questions regarding the trip, then I'll be in my office after midnight, I have field work to do, shouldn't keep me too long though," they left his office together, "and if you still have questions we don't have time for when the shift ends, then I suggest you see me after work," he added, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Sara suppressed a smirk, "will do."

* * *

Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing so far, I'm greatful for all your kind words:

Special mentions to Cindy aka SG1PhileShipper, kristy87, and Eaglesei for reviews more than 3 lines long :)

In reference to a review I receved from Eve, I want to make something clear...

Sara's eating meat in the chapter "Night on the Town" was actually an homage to a friend of mines who was a vegetarian, there was one night at a worksnight outwe were in this Mongolian restaurant she got SO wildly drunk that she was eating all sorts of things at the dinner table including Yak ribs and Ostrich - she went to everyone's plates and was helping herself.Also, despite how much alcohol she had consumed she still remembered the next day also what she had done, she was mortified.

I just feel I should point out that this was not meant as disrespect to vegetarians nor Sara's character or trying to break anything that was "canon", but rather just a reminder of how when people get drunk they do sometimes do things they wouldn't normally do. I used this homage to indicate just how completely DRUNK Sara had let herself get, so drunk that she did something she was against without even giving it a second thought.

Another thing I'd like to point in reference to Sara's vegetarianism - there was an episode that came after the thing with the pig where she claimed all she wanted was "coffee and a steak" or something (I can't remember which episode this was, I think it might be the one where she was called in to work on her night off and lacked sleep)...so even the CSI writers seem to get it wrong sometimes). In any case, I (and several other fans will tell you this)don't think her vegetarianism was the real reason she was ready to quit her job, it was more to do with Gil's attitude towards the situation that made her feel he didn't respect her.

I don't know if you're reading this, Eve, but there's also a reference to Sara being vegetarian in a following chapter where Gil makes her dinner, (he has to make it a vegetarian meal for her) so I didn't completely disregard it with disrespect, okay? I'm not out to disrespect anyone.

SS


	23. Chapter 23: Second Thoughts

**Chapter 23**

**Second Thoughts**

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****

"Grissom…I'm having second thoughts…"

It was the end of the shift when Gil raised his eyes to the door to hear Sara say this, she stood with her shoulder against the threshold, the forms Gil had handed to her earlier were one hand, her other hand was in the pocket of her leather jacket.

"Oh?" Gil asked, he wasn't sure if she was referring to their relationship or this trip. "Come in," he offered. He put down the pen he'd been writing with and gazed at her.

Sara came in, and this time closed the door, she then stood in front of his desk rather than stand.

"Second thoughts about…?" Gil queried.

"The trip, of course," Sara responded.

Gil tried not to be hurt by the sting of her beginning to have second thoughts about the trip already, "Well…you thought it seemed like a good idea at the start of the shift…obviously something has happened to change your mind, so tell me, what's left you in doubt?"

"I heard Warrick talking to Nick, Gil," she said, "I think they might suspect something…" her expression was full of concern.

Gil took his glasses off, and let them dangle from his hand as he stared at her, "what makes you think that?" he asked, he too was now full of concern.

"Well…I was heading to the locker room to get something from my locker, and I heard them talking and what I heard made me stop just before getting to the door. They were talking about relationships between colleagues and how it could mess things up and it was such a big risk…it makes me think maybe they know…and have known for a while."

"What exactly was said?" Gil asked, he propped one elbow on the desk and let his chin rest on his knuckles.

"Well…" Sara paused, and she fell silent for a moment, her eyes squinting as she looked away, trying to remember exactly, "Warrick said 'relationships between colleagues are frowned upon, do you know how risky this is? These kind of things change everything'. Nick made some comment as he agreed, then Warrick said 'asking out someone who works in the lab is one thing, but getting close to someone you work with all the time just seems like asking for trouble…'."

Gil drew in his breath, "it sounds like you're right but…lets look at this from a logical point of view as if this were a case we were dealing with…all we have are words…no real evidence at all right? No names were mentioned, no proof was mentioned. Let us not assume that they suspect…"

"Then what should we do…?"

"I need time to think about that," Gil confessed, "In the meantime, I wouldn't worry too much…if they did know, I doubt they would pass the information on to anyone else…"

"Are you kidding me?" Sara asked incredulously, "anyone passing the locker room could hear what they said – I did," she reminded. "If they're that careless to talk about it in a room with an open door, then what makes you think they wouldn't turn around and tell the next person they see?"

"Sara, they're your colleagues, you're meant to trust them," Gil reminded, he felt suddenly as if he'd switched from being the man in Sara's life, to being the supervisor in her life. It was a strange shift, and he remembered this was why he had originally wanted to maintain the personal relationship and work relationship separate – occasions such as this were a prime example of why things should be kept separate.

"I know," Sara sighed, "but…"

"But nothing," Gil put his hand down with a soft thud on the desk, "lets not jump to conclusions, alright?"

"Alright…" Sara responded, still sounding a little overwhelmed and unsure.

"Now, about the trip," Gil stated, and waited for her to comment on this.

"I just don't think it would be a good idea to go on this trip with you if they suspect something – or know something…" Sara explained, "What if they think you picked me purely for the reason that we would be together?"

"Sara, Warrick knows I'm not like that," Gil admitted, "Nick does too – even Catherine does."

"How do they know? You're a total mystery to everyone in this department," Sara reminded.

Gil just smiled, "they know enough to know I wouldn't choose you to go on this trip purely for the wrong reasons," he admitted.

_But you did, didn't you? You didn't choose her to go away to be together with her, you didn't choose her at all, Catherine dropped you into this mess_, he thought in disgust with himself.

"So," Gil continued, "you're still going, I won't take no for an answer, I think this will be a good thing for you. I'm not saying this because of any hidden attentions or plans to be with you, I'm saying it as your supervisor. I chose you to go because I think you deserve the chance to go – just as I'd choose Catherine, Warrick, Nick or even Greg. My choosing you had nothing to do with our personal relationship at all."

Liar, liar, pants on fire, his thoughts screamed.

Despite he had forced himself to lie about why he'd chosen her, he found himself meaning that at some point he would have chosen her professionally to accompany him on a lecture trip, and he did think that she could benefit from some of the things she might learn by this trip, not to mention would benefit from more free time. She'd been working too hard, she deserved this break.

"I will look into the conversation you overheard between Warrick and Nick, I'll find out as much as I can and I'll deal with it accordingly, but as I said, in the meantime, don't worry."

Sara nodded, "Alright, I'll try, can't make any promises though," she placed the forms she'd brought with her on his desk, they were all filled out and signed.

Gil took the forms and placed them right in front of him on the desk, "I'll deal with these right now before I leave…unless…" he paused, "Do you need a ride home?"

"Actually, I got my car back today – its working again, for now," she assured.

"Alright…" Gil nodded, he wasn't sure if this meant she wanted to see him now that the shift had ended or not.

"Anyway, I better go," Sara shrugged, she opened the door and paused between the hallway and the office, "gonna go have breakfast…at this out of the way diner, they make decent waffles," she explained.

Gil picked up the hint, this was her way of saying 'I'm going to the diner where we met for breakfast for the first time – be there'. He had no intentions of turning her down, especially if she was perhaps going to go there anyway, and could possibly run into this Jeremy who had been there before.

Gil gave a very vague nod, just so that anyone passing by who happened to see wouldn't catch on. "Tonight is your night off," he said, looking at the calendar on his desk, "so I guess I'll see you when you start your shift tomorrow…" he said. He knew she'd understand he was saying this merely for pretence in case anyone should be passing by.

"Bye," Sara waved, and disappeared out of the office, she shut the door behind herself.

Gil glanced at his watch and made a mental note to leave in fifteen minutes to meet her. With that, he began to busy himself making arrangements for the trip.

* * *

Thanks to people for reviewing, I want to sit and mention the names of those who reviewed more than 3 lines long but I'm about to go to bed, I haven't slept for a few days but I stayed upjust so I could write this chapter. Are people gluttons for punishment in asking for more of this fic or what! LOL. I'm having a blast writing it!

Ah, anyway, I'll write and update more tomorrow if I can.


	24. Chapter 24: Don't Speak

**Chapter 24**

**Don't Speak**

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****

That night, on the shift, Gil and Catherine were on a case together, and driving through the dark desert to reach the body of a dead hitchhiker. Gil had remained focused on work up until they were half way to their destination, but he did have intentions to use this time with Catherine to reprimand her for instigating the situation with Sara and the trip.

"So, what day do you leave for your trip?" asked Catherine casually, she had her elbow propped up by the window, her hand in her hair.

"The thirty-first," Gil responded, "actually…" he glanced at her for merely a second before turning his eyes back to the quiet road, "I do have a bone to pick with you about that."

"Oh?" Catherine asked.

"How could you just drop me in to that situation?" he demanded.

"Because you need this, and so does she," Catherine touched the tip of her finger to the corner of her eye to wipe away a sleep crust, "god, it's obvious the only time you really see each other at work, and if you do see each other outside of work, it's probably brief. You're not sleeping together…"

"How would you know?" Gil shot.

"A woman knows," Catherine responded, "you know what sexual tension is, right?" she smirked.

Gil could only roll his eyes, but couldn't find the words to answer her.

"You and Sara have had it building up for years – and you're still not sleeping together, that's bad news, especially if you've been dating a while now."

"We're taking it slowly. I'm not the kind of guy who rushes to bed with a woman."

"Pish tosh!" Catherine gaped, and laughed in disbelief, "in the past, you've had women to bed on the first date – so don't give me this taking it slow thing, that isn't you."

"It is this time," Gil responded. "This is different this time, Cath," he admitted after a moment, he sighed.

"There's feelings involved. That's a first for you, right?" Catherine asked.

Gil put off answering for several minutes, and then finally, he sighed again, and said "yes."

"Congratulations, you've just lifted your head out of the microscope," Catherine grinned, "how does it feel, bugman?"

Gil didn't really want to explain any of it to Catherine, but somehow, his words spilled forth from his heart before he could even let his head consider them. "It feels good, and it hurts all at the same time…" he said, "I can't really explain it in any other terms. Everything I've ever read about love in books doesn't even come close to this, Cath."

"So you do love her…" Catherine realised. "If there's all this sexual tension and you love each other—"

"I never said she loved me," Gil interjected.

Catherine continued, "then why haven't you slept together yet? It's the ultimate release…"

"Why do we have to discuss this?"

"Because you're an uptight prude as of late, and without my advice you'd shrivel up and die," Catherine smirked, "you'll love your relationship with Sara when it gets to the next phase – it's the best part of dating."

"What phase is that?" Gil asked.

"After the first time together…you gotta have it all the time, you can't stop thinking about it, night and day, every time you're together, doesn't matter where you are. You're at it like bunnies at every available opportunity, during that phase, it's sex on the brain. Surely you've had a few relationships like that?"

"Not really," Gil responded, "sex, yeah, but not…sex on the brain."

Catherine laughed, "something will happen in Scotland, you mark my words."

"Nothing is going to happen in Scotland, Catherine. We're not even going to share the suite," Gil assured.

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything," Catherine shrugged.

"Cath, I haven't even French kissed the woman, you think I'm going to make love to her just because we'll be sleeping in the same building?" he asked, he suddenly felt dismayed at what he'd just admitted.

"Oh my god…" Catherine mumbled, "You haven't even French Kis—" Catherine stopped herself, "Jesus, Grissom, what's slowing you down?"

"I don't want to rush things…it's too good to be true already."

"How much affection do you show her?" she asked quickly.

"Affection?" Gil asked almost stupidly as if he'd never heard the word before, he felt immediately moronic, he winced at his own stupidity. He knew what Catherine meant.

"Do you kiss her a lot? Hug her, stroke her hair, her face, touch her ass as she passes…" Catherine listed off.

"I…don't really do a lot of that…and definitely not the ass, part," Gil responded.

"Okay, then you really need to start doing that, Gil. Those things are important to a woman, affection is important. I know to a man it doesn't matter, but to a woman, it definitely does."

"Okay…" Gil trailed off, he could well believe Catherine was right in this respect, after all, she was a woman.

"Just…don't be afraid to show her how you feel…" Catherine suggested. "Don't just kiss her. Be a guy, kiss her hard and passionately, make her know you mean it."

"Alright…" Gil responded, "I…uh…will definitely try that. In the meantime, never drop me in at the deep end again. Next time I might just have to take severe action," he smirked.

When the shift ended, Gil found him taking an unexpected detour on the way home. He'd been half way home when he'd begun to rethink about Catherine's words, from earlier in the shift, and he swerved the car around and headed down the opposite direction towards Sara's building.

He wasn't sure what he was planning to do when he got there, all he knew was he had to do something. The race up the stairs of Sara's apartment building – as well as the excitement pent up within him – left him breathless, and he stopped at her door for a few moments to catch his breath.

_You're getting too old for this_, he told himself in thought as he knocked on the door, and waited. He hoped to god he hadn't just woken her up.

The door opened several moments later, Sara stood there in baggy pajama pants, a tight tanktop and an oversized cardigan.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, still breathing a little heavily.

"No," Sara responded, she let him in and closed the door behind him, "I didn't know you were coming over," whilst crossing the room, she closed her cardigan as if she thought he might take notice of the fact she didn't have anything on beneath her tanktop. "You could have called or something…"

"I thought I'd surprise you," Gil smiled.

Sara stood in the middle of the room, she looked awkward as if the thought of him seeing her in her pajamas was more than she could bear. "Do you want anything? Coffee, tea…" she trailed off, "a badly cooked breakfast?"

Gil laughed softly, "no thanks," he stepped over, "were you just about to go to bed?"

"I was thinking of it, I was bored," Sara responded, "but…you're here now," she pointed out, she gave a slight smile.

"You're not tired?" he stopped as he reached her, he stood merely inches away.

"Not at the moment," she shrugged, their close proximity left her looking anxious, as if she expected him to do or say something.

Gil mentally braced himself, and slipped his arms around her waist, "good," he said very softly.

Sara settled into his arms at once, her anxious expression fading, she smiled, "why are you breathing like that?" she asked.

"I ran," Gil pecked her lips, as bold as he was trying to be, his nerves were raw and his blood was pulsing through his veins somewhat violently. "I…uh…" he began, he wanted to say something charming and tender, but the words failed him again, he couldn't think of anything other than kissing her.

"Don't speak," Sara placed her fingers to his mouth to quiet him, she seemed to sense that he couldn't find the right words anymore.

He kissed the tips of her fingers before she drew them away, he kept his eyes on hers the entire time, her eyes glistened like two black onyxes in the dim lighting of her apartment. He drew her a little closer and he lightly brushed his lips against hers.

Electric shivers quaked along him again, as he followed the same routine of short gentle kisses he had before, he buried one hand in her hair, and let his other hand rest in the small of her back. He felt her arms around his neck, her hand too was now in his hair.

Things Catherine had said earlier during his shift began to race through his mind. _Be a guy. Kiss her hard and passionately. Make her know you mean it._

He tugged on her bottom lip first, just testing new ground, seeing how she'd respond to this, she shivered in his arms and he reveled at this, and could only compare the feeling to the success of a very difficult experiment. He was convinced she was definitely prepared for more, and he now found himself aching to go further.

Gil started again with the soft kisses, preparing himself for when he'd take it one step further, he wanted to catch her off guard, do it without her expecting it, he was intrigued to see what her response might be. She was relaxed his arms, matching his kisses, her fingers working tenderly through his hair.

_Now, Gil_, _be a guy. Make her know you mean it,_ he told himself, and then he let himself take the plunge, he tipped her head back just a little, and then without giving her any warning deepened the kiss, letting his tongue tentatively test new ground. He felt her go rigid in his arms, she definitely hadn't expected this so soon, and he found himself delighted and amused at her reaction.

Sara didn't pull away from him. She remained perfectly still, almost as if she were frozen with confusion, unsure what action to take next. Gil felt as if the roles had been reversed. Now he was the one being bold, she was the one now being unsure and timid. He might have laughed had his mouth not been – pleasantly – preoccupied.

He ended this kiss with another soft tug at her bottom lip with his own, almost as if to tease her, he kissed down her chin, momentarily glancing up to see if her eyes were still closed. They most definitely were, the expression on her face he'd never seen before, it gave him chills and aches in all the right places. Her hands found his shoulders and tightened on his flesh as he began to work his lips along the velvety skin of her jaw.

_Don't take this too far, there's plenty of time, remember,_ he told himself, he moved up for another kiss, deeper than the one before. He'd weakened her emotionally and somewhat physically by this new intimacy, and it took some time to warm her up before she finally began to relax. Tentatively at first, she began to respond to him, and as the moments melted away she began to sink into it, letting go of any inhibitions she might have momentarily had.

For several moments they stood there in the middle of the room, their tongues swirling in a crazy waltz of passion as they kissed, their arms holding each other as close as humanly possible.

Gil began to feel those familiar carnal stirrings, and this was the catalyst that caused him to pull away slowly, ending the make out session with one last soft peck on her lips before distancing himself enough that his body was no longer touching hers at all.

Sara's expression was full of astonishment. Gil felt unbelievably smug that he could have stunned her so much at all, and the satisfaction from that was incredibly fulfilling.

Sara faltered, as if she were struggling with something to say, "I…uh…" she began, and her mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing else came out. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she was struggling to catch her breath.

"Don't speak," Gil placed his fingers against her lips, and smiled mockingly at her, "I'll make breakfast, shall I?"

* * *

Yeah, I know there's still grammatical errors (re: djkittykat), but humour me, I'm Scottish andit's hard to write for a - mostly - American/Canadian audience. LOL.

Anyway.Thanks to the ones who've reviewed. Anyone who's reviewed for the last few chaps who's review shows up on my screen more than 3 lines long deserves a mention and a big thanks, (big reviews make my day, I get all excited as I scroll down my browser and see more than 3 lines - if I see at least six I get giddy, lol).

Mention list (most recentfirst):

Aidrianna, Gossamerwings7, Laura Katherine, Cindy aka SG1Phileshipper, Kristy87, Ghibli, tarrabeena, Eaglesei, wp1fan

Hope you all continue liking the story (yes, I know it's taking a while to get to the Scotland part, but I'm still prepping Gris and Sara for it, lol.

SS


	25. Chapter 25: Dating a Coworker

**Chapter 25**

**Dating a Coworker**

* * *

****

"I got another love-note from my secret admirer."

It was the next night during the nights dinner break in the appropriately named break room, and the rest of the team glanced up to see Catherine Willows stepping in, waving a small envelope in front of her. Her name was scrawled on it in the same mysterious handwriting all the other notes had been written.

Gil was settled doing the crossword puzzle in the daily newspaper, he glanced up, "another one?" he asked, he lowered the newspaper, "how many is this now?"

"Including the ones I haven't mentioned?" Catherine asked, she went to pour herself some coffee, "uh…eight."

"Eight?"

"I got flowers twice," Catherine responded, "and a really nice pair of diamond earrings – expensive ones."

"Sounds like this guy means business," Sara commented, she had her cellular phone in her hand and was playing a built in game to pass the time.

"What's the note say?" Warrick asked.

"Uh…" Catherine realised she hadn't even opened the letter yet. She ripped the envelope, and pulled the note from inside out, "oh…" she blinked, seeming a little taken aback, she fell completely silent, and stood there, gazing at the note as if in a daze.

Gil put his crossword down, got up and stepped over, "Cath, what's wrong?"

"Nothing…" Catherine shook her head, but she handed him the note, looking at him waiting for a response.

"_What do you think about dating someone you work with_…" He read aloud without even having stopped to read it to himself first.

Gil immediately glanced towards Sara, although he didn't realize it had been his first instinct to do so. Sara gave him a look that spoke of her immediate concern about the note. The note brought up a question which could put their secrecy in jeopardy.

"This is from someone I know…someone I work with…someone who works with ME," Catherine pointed out.

Greg raised an eyebrow, "so…how are you supposed to answer this guy if you don't even know who he is?"

Catherine shrugged, "I have no clue…should I be freaking out about this?"

"It's probably just a guy from another department...one of the A/V geeks or something," Warrick suggested.

It was Nick who brought up the question, "what do you think about that anyway?"

Catherine glanced towards him, "what? Dating a coworker?"

"Yeah," Nick shrugged, "just out of interest, what do you all think?"

Gil and Sara looked at each other with wide frightened eyes, and then immediately looked away from each other, Sara feigned interest in her phone and Gil went back to his crossword.

"I…don't know," Catherine admitted, "honestly…if it was someone I connected with, I wouldn't have a problem with it…"

Gil glanced over his crossword quickly, to see if anyone might be looking at him.

Warrick paused, "probably," he said with a shrug.

"Sara? Grissom?" Nick asked.

"Hmmm?" Gil pretended to be preoccupied.

"Would you date a coworker?"

"You know he would," Warrick responded, "he's done it in the past."

Gil felt Sara's eyes dart right to him, and he winced at the thought. He always assumed she might have known about the handful of women he'd dated throughout the department, but Warrick's mentioning it seemed to make it sound worse than it was – especially since he'd made excuses in the past about working together being one of the reasons he could never be with her.

"When he was just one of us and not a supervisor," Catherine interjected. Gil noted she seemed to sense what might be going through Sara's mind.

"Sara?" Greg asked, "what about you?"

Sara faltered, "I…uh…well…it's not relevant, I'm dating a great guy now."

_Great guy_, Gil's thoughts echoed_. Okay, she can't be that mad at me_.

"But just theoretically," Greg suggested, "would you?"

"Uh…yes," Sara answered, "if he was someone I felt close enough to risk my job over, then sure."

"Grissom, you still didn't answer," Greg pointed out.

"Someone answered for me," Gil pointed out, he put an answer down on the crossword, then he picked up his coffee to take a sip.

"Doesn't count. Would you actually date a coworker? In fact, since you're a supervisor would you actually date a subordinate?"

Grissom choked on his coffee and swore mentally, luckily managing to avoid it hitting most of his shirt, the newspaper seemed to catch most of it. "Excuse me?"

"Like…would you date Cath…or Sara?" Greg asked with a shrug.

Gil examined the young man, striving to see if there might be a knowing look on his face. "You know it'd be inappropriate," he finally managed.

"Come on, look at how hot these women are, especially Sara," Greg winked at Sara, "you're telling me you wouldn't be tempted."

"Tempted, maybe," Gil answered, "but Sara has a man in her life, and Cath already has an admirer – who by the way, isn't me – so I think I shall try elsewhere in the dating pool," he said quickly.

Warrick looked concerned, "why are you getting defensive? It's just a theoretical question."

As apprehensive Catherine seemed about her letter, she still threw Gil a smug grin but pursed her lips as if to stop herself from saying something she might have regretted.

"I'm not getting defensive," Gil put his crossword down, he glanced suspiciously at Warrick, "what makes you think I'm getting defensive?" he asked, his voice slightly higher than normal.

Warrick just looked at him, "No, you're right, you're definitely laid back…" he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Man, the sooner you get a woman, the better," he joked.

Gil didn't know why he responded, "what makes you so sure I'm not already in a relationship?" he asked insolently.

Warrick's head snapped to the side to gaze at him, "Because you're Grissom," he smirked.

Gil had to smirk, "okay," he decided to agree. He felt the vibrating of his cellular phone in his hip pocket, and he pulled it out, he had a message. He flipped the phone open and opened the message.

**New Msg from Sara Sidle**

**Do you think they suspect?**

Gil closed his phone quickly, he glanced over to Sara to throw her a meaningful look, but smiled, indicating she shouldn't worry.

"Cath, what are you doing to find out who this guy is?" Nick glanced over to Catherine.

"Fingerprinting every note, not so much as any kind of trace DNA is showing on them, this guy knows his business…" she admitted, "he knows what he's doing."

Gil glanced towards Greg, remembering a month ago when Greg had been making a valentines card for Sara how thorough he'd been to make it anonymous, to the point of wearing gloves.

_Is it Gre_g? He wondered. _No, can't be. Greg wouldn't think to buy a woman diamond earrings…and he has this thing for Sara, that's obvious. If he was going to send anyone earrings, I'd assume it'd be Sara._

Warrick, Sara and Nick stood, noticing time for break was over, it was back to work. "We'll be in the garage if anyone needs us," Warrick commented to Gil.

Gil nodded, and watched as they left, when he and Catherine were alone, he said, "do you think Warrick knows about me and Sara?"

"I think he's aware that Sara has feelings for you, and that you probably have some attraction to her, but I think that's all he knows," Catherine admitted. She was reading the note again, her expression pensive.

"You've had eight notes from this guy – obviously you must know something about him by now," Gil stated, falling back on to the discussion of her secret admirer.

Catherine shrugged, "all I know about this guy is he writes with a black ink gel pen – and it has a slight leak in it," she admitted, "some of the letters have small blotches from the leak," she showed him the letter again.

"Its not much to go on, but it's a start," Gil shrugged. "By the way, I think I should, uh…say thank you for the advice."

"What advice?" Catherine turned to look at him.

"About, you know…the affection…the kiss," he kept his voice low. The break room door was open, and anyone might possibly hear if they were walking by.

Catherine smirked, her eyes glittered with mischief, "you took my advice, then?"

"Yes…and I got some…rather satisfactory results."

"See, I know my stuff," Catherine left the room with a deliberate swing in her hips.

Gil chuckled softly, "I hate to admit it, but yes you do."

* * *

I'm heading off to bed at the moment but I just thought I'd upload this chapter before I go. I won't mention the people who reviewed with more than 3 lines at the moment, but I'll get them in the next chapter.

I know people are complaining about this being a terribly drawn out story, I kind of mean for it to be that way. Some people (like me) hate reading a story that's only a few chapters long and wish it had gone on for a lot longer, I guess I like epic stories or something, I don't know.

Hi to Mel, who read today for the first time. She's my pleb, I love her to bits :)

SS


	26. Chapter 26: Mystery Solved

**Chapter 26**

**Mystery Solved**

****

* * *

****

The next eleven days seemed to fly by for Gil, and with every passing day the workload seemed to increase as a reminder that he'd have to make up for some work he'd miss while away in Scotland with Sara.

Four days before the day he would leave for Scotland, he was called out on the field several times, and as a result, fell behind in the paperwork he'd been so desperate to keep on top off. He and Sara had not been able to see each other outside of work for several different reasons, his workload had been one of them, and an important case had been pulling him in on overtime that was possible, making his personal life so severe, he'd barely slept at all in a week.

By the thirtieth of March – the day before he was supposed to leave – the paperwork situation had grown so bad he had to request Catherine to come and help him deal with a good portion of it.

Catherine was preoccupied as much as he was, she had still not found out who her secret admirer was, and had not received any other notes. Gil could have sworn that she was depressed for this very reason but she tried to remain strangely upbeat and focused nonetheless, although without much success.

Pulling three hours overtime when everyone else had gone home, the two took a short coffee break in the break room, both feeling frazzled and raw by the amount of work that had been pouring in.

Gil had already discussed with Catherine that in his place, she would be supervisor until his return. He was already wondering how she'd cope with all this paperwork – he could barely cope with it on his own. "Cath…maybe I should cancel this whole thing," Gil said, he sat down at the table with the newspaper crossword, livid that someone had already done most of his crossword – although he noted several answers were wrong.

"Why?" Catherine asked, she sat back, her feet on the table, "don't you think I can handle it?"

"I know you can handle it," he said, although he had his doubts about the paperwork, "I just think it's unfair to put you under this kind of stress at so little notice."

"I had two weeks notice, that's plenty," Catherine admitted, "besides…you need a vacation – a proper vacation. Granted, you'll still have to lecture, but you'll have so much free time on your hands."  
"I probably won't know what to do with myself," he commented, referring to all the free time.

"If Sara is with you, you'll think of something," Catherine teased. "How are things going in the relationship department anyway?" she sipped her coffee.

"Uh, we haven't had any time to see each other…you know how my workload has been as of late," Gil responded, he pushed away the newspaper dejectedly, "someone ruined my crossword," he uttered unhappily.

"There's more to life than crosswords," Catherine smirked, "are you and Sara still going to be sleeping in separate rooms in the hotel, then?"

"Of course," Gil responded, "I can't even deal with sharing a hotel suite with you, Cath, do you think I could really share with Sara?"

"There's a difference between me and Sara," Catherine reminded, "a tighter ass and boobs that stay in place come to mind."

Gil suppressed the urge to laugh, "I can't say I've noticed…" he looked away as to not meet her eye. He was lying, he definitely had noticed Sara in the way Catherine was mentioning, but he didn't feel like saying so. His eyes caught a discarded pen lying on the table and he picked it up. Out of sheer curiosity to see if it still worked, wrote his name on the bottom of the newspaper on the table, "interesting…" he mumbled. "Cath, do you have any of the love notes with you…?"

Catherine seemed confused, "Uh…yeah…" she had left her bag on a chair, she picked it up and searched through it quickly, locating one of the notes, "Why?" she handed it to him.

Gil took the note from her, and put it beside the spot on the newspaper where he'd written his name, "I think I've found the pen," he gestured to the crossword, "same pen was even used to do the crossword."

"Huh?" Catherine got up quickly and walked around to the side of the table Gil was sitting, she looked over his shoulder.

"Look…the blotting is consistent with the writing on your notes…looks like this might be the pen…"

"I can fingerprint it," Catherine said, sounding slightly excited.

"Let me," Gil said, "I'll do it tomorrow before I leave," he said, "I'm coming in early to deal with some odds and ends," he added.

"Okay," Catherine nodded, although she seemed slightly disappointed that she couldn't deal with this right away.

Gil stood up, "c'mon, the sooner we get this paperwork sorted, the sooner we leave."

Gil showed for his shift on the thirty-first of March at two pm in the afternoon, as did Sara. Sara had a case she was still working on, she was hoping she'd have it solved by the time she was due to leave. Gil had managed to get through most of his paperwork, but had gone around the labs and supply room checking inventory just in case anything should come up, he wanted to make Catherine's taking over for the week as easy and seamless as possible – if he didn't he feared he might come back to complete anarchy.

He found some free time in between tying up loose ends to deal with the pen. After dusting the pen, he discovered that there were at least five fingerprints all overlapping, one of those fingerprints was his own. If he had realised at the time this might have been the pen in question, he would not have picked it up at all.

Gil was just as interested as was Catherine to find out who the secret admirer was. As capable and independent as Catherine was, Gil feared she might be hurt over this secret admirer situation. What if whoever was doing this might take things to extremes? He was concerned for her, and wanted to do as much as he could to find out who this guy sending the notes and flowers was before he had to leave. He didn't have much time to do it. He'd already had his suspicions for a few days, but without proof, he wasn't eager to approach Catherine with the mans name. He'd wait, find out who it was himself, and he'd speak with man directly, he wanted to find out if this was a game or if this was serious business.

Sara stopped into the lab to see him briefly, "hey," she said brightly.

"Are you all prepared?" Gil asked, he had scanned the fingerprints and was already searching through the employee system for a match. "For the trip, I mean," he added.

"Reception are keeping my luggage behind the desk for me," Sara answered.

"Passport?" he asked.

"Got it," Sara assured.

"Is it valid?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Had it renewed," Sara smirked, she folded her arms and smiled just a little.

"Brought something to do on the plane?"

"That's what you're there for," Sara said rather innocently, but she grinned cheekily, her eyes glittered with mischief as she looked at him.

Gil cleared his throat, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he feigned more interest in the computer than her.

"I was kidding," Sara smirked, "what are you doing?"

"Scanning fingerprints, me and Cath found the pen that the notes were written with."

"Any matches yet?" Sara asked, she moved over to see.

"Me," Gil pointed to the screen, one of the prints had brought up his own work record. "I touched the pen not knowing what it was at the time. Someone left it on the table?"

Sara stood behind where he sitting, she placed her hand on the back of his chair, he felt her fingers brush his back very gently almost as if it were accidental. Something told Gil that it had been deliberate though.

"There are four other prints I'm still scanning," Gil looked over his shoulder at her.

"Do you think it could be one of us?" she asked, she leaned down to look at the screen, their faces side by side now, and very close.

Gil didn't say anything, he just smirked knowingly.

"Who do you think it is?" Sara asked.

"I'll tell you later – on the plane."

Sara nodded, "okay, well, anyway, I have to go finish this case…and you probably have lots to do," she said, "how are we getting to the airport?"

"Cab. I didn't want to leave my car at the airport all week, I did that once and came back to find it dented and scratched. I left it at home. Just be down at reception by ten," he said.

Sara left the lab, and Gil sat there scanning through the employee records for the finger prints. Just when he was beginning to doubt his suspicions, another match was made, and it was the very person he'd suspected, "well well…" he chuckled, and then in a singsong voice said, "there was a farmer had a dog…and BINGO was his name-o,"

"Warrick," said Gil as he stepped into the garage were Warrick and Nick were searching for trace evidence in a white van.

The graveyard shift had started at eight pm. It was now almost ten and Gil had to leave soon for the airport. He'd called a cab and was killing time until it arrived.

Warrick had been leaning into the back of the van when he heard Gil's voice. He stopped and leaned out, he glanced towards his supervisor curiously, "yeah?"

"Just wondering if you maybe lost a pen," Gil took the pen in question out of his shirt pocket and held it up. He'd cleaned it of any fingerprint dust, so that it looked practically the way he'd found it.

"I was wondering where I'd left it," Warrick said, he seemed slightly distracted as if the pen meant more to him than just simply a writing tool.

"You wouldn't be by any chance the one who messed up my crossword, would you?" Gil asked, he handed Warrick the pen.

"You hadn't done it yet, and I was bored," Warrick shrugged, "I thought you were too busy trying to get your paperwork in order.

"It's okay, don't worry about it…" Gil assured, "you can do it all week while I'm away if you like…if you like, you and Catherine can do it together," he added, making sure to put enough emphasis on Catherine's name to ensure Warrick understood now that Gil had figured out he was behind the secret admirer notes.

Warrick had a strange look on his face, Gil wasn't sure to pin it down as panic or confusion. "Uh…"

"Don't worry…I haven't said anything to her," Gil said, "I'll leave that to you…"

"Look…I know it must look like some stupid joke—"

"No explanations necessary – not to me at least," Gil said, "you might want to explain things to Cath though," he admitted.

"How…did you know?" Warrick asked, he seemed very aware that Nick was pretending not to be listening in.

"Apart from that pen being the pen you wrote the notes with, lets just say a certain conversation between you and Nick was overheard and it left me with the suspicion…" he explained. "I trust you'll tell her yourself? Only, I think she's rather desperate to know who could be so…romantic…"

"I will tell her…" Warrick assured, "at some point."

Gil glanced to his watch, "Well…anyway, it's ten pm, my cab will be waiting, so I shall see you both in a week," he said.

"Have fun," Warrick said in a simple tone, he still seemed somewhat crestfallen that Gil had discovered his secret.

Gil stopped at his office to grab his luggage from where he'd left it, and then made his way down to the reception.

I can't believe Warrick actually thought he could get away with this without me finding out – he made it so obvious how could he ever think me or Cath wouldn't eventually figure it out?"

When he got to the reception, Catherine was standing with Sara, they were discussing Sara's last case, Catherine was going to have to take over for Sara in her absence.

"All set?" Gil asked, he put his suitcase down just to check that he still had his passport and wallet in his pocket.

"Yes," Sara said.

"Did you fingerprint the pen?" Catherine asked at once of Gil.

"Yes, I did," Gil answered, "Mystery solved."

"Who is it?" Catherine asked.

"He's told me he's going to confront you himself. All I can say is you may be pleasantly surprised," Gil smirked.

"Sara!"

Gil, Catherine and Sara turned to see Greg running down the hall, he looked flushed from running.

Sara blinked, "uh, yeah?"

"You didn't say goodbye," was all Greg could manage.

Gil smirked, "say goodbye to Greg, Sara," he picked up his suitcase and the heaviest suitcase of Sara's.

"Goodbye, Greg," Sara said, she gave a little wave.

"Now, you have my office for the week," Gil said to Catherine, "I've printed my complete schedule for Scotland and it's in a plastic folder on my desk, along with all the numbers of places you'll be able to reach me if there's an absolute emergency. You have complete authorization to sign anything that requires my signature for the next week. I've taken inventory and ordered surplus just in case, so there shouldn't be too much to worry about. Remember and do the paperwork as often as you can, it piles up fast," he said all in one breath. "Here's my house keys," he took her hand and dropped the keys into it, "I've left instructions pinned to my fridge explaining how to feed the insects and the spider – don't mess with the thermostat in the house. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge while you're there, but don't drink anything in a bottle with an unsealed cap."

"Okay…" Catherine looked at him with vague panic.

Sara smirked, "C'mon, Gris, the cab is waiting," she picked up the other suitcase she was bringing, it was the smaller lighter one.

Gil would have waved goodbye had his hand been free, "see you all in a week," he said, and with that, he and Sara left together.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing! The reviews seriously make my day, I have this weird little ritual of opening the reviews in my yahoo mail and slowly scrolling down first to see the name, then I read one tiny line at a time. Ugh, makes me quiver with delight, mwahaha.

Mentions (as promised) to the ones who wrote more than three lines (although I noticed some people were just hitting enter and going to the next line at the end of short sentences lol). Anyway, those people who wrote reviews 3 lines long or more are:

Kristy87, jtbwriter, Laredo Grissom, Gossamerwings7, luckyladyinlace, Aidrianna, CSI4nsicAce, Eaglesei, Juwist, ScullyAsTrinity and Cindy aka SG1Phileshipper. Especially Gossamerwings7's review, as it was massive, and I was just entranced for several seconds. Thanks for making my day!

BTW, Gossamerwings7, Jedbourough isn't too far from where I am, and I've been there once or twice ;)

SS


	27. Chapter 27: Mile High Club

**Chapter 27**

**Mile High Club**

* * *

****

"That's the third couple I've seen heading for the bathroom in the last two hours."

Sara turned to see what Gil was saying, he nodded in the direction of a very obvious couple slipping away to the airplane lavatory to make love.

"You're counting…" Sara raised an eyebrow. "You're actually counting."

"It's just an observation," Gil had been trying to focus on the book he'd brought along with him but couldn't help raise his eyes every time someone happened to pass. He felt uneasy with this.

_People are having sex…in the lavatory…leaving…all kinds of…trace DNA behind them_, he thought frowning.

Sara shook her head at him but smiled and went back to reading a magazine she'd bought at the airport.

_Why does it bother you_? Gil thought at himself, he glanced towards Sara and looked away again, he took a deep breath. Obvious. You've been avoiding the thought of sex for over a month now, and now you're going to be alone with Sara for a week, where plenty of opportunities will come and go. It bothers you because if you weren't as goddamn shy that could be you joining the Mile High Club instead of the young couple who just passed by…

He shook his head as if he thought he could rid the thoughts of his head this way.

"So…" Sara closed her magazine, "you said you'd tell me about Catherine's secret admirer. We've been in the air for two hours now and you've still not brought it up, so tell me, who was sending the notes."

"Take a guess," Gil offered, he took his glasses off to inspect a smudge on the left lens.

"I'd rather just hear who was behind it," Sara turned around in her seat a little to face him.

"Warrick," Gil finally said, he breathed on the lens and polished it with the bottom hem of his shirt.

"How did you know?"

"Apart from finding then pen," he reminded, "it was what you told me he had said to Nick. About dating someone from work…"

"So it wasn't us they were talking about…it was about Warrick and Cath…Nick obviously knew about this whole time…"

"Yes. Anyway, I had my suspicions but…until I saw the pen and had the proof I needed…I couldn't really be sure."

"Warrick and Catherine…that really is a crazy match," Sara confessed.

"Some would say the same about us," Gil pointed out, he put his glasses back on, "except from Greg."

"What do you mean?" Sara asked.

Gil paused, he was trying to find the place on the page he'd been reading in his book, he'd lost it when he'd noticed the third couple go by. "Well…" he began, "it was Valentines day and I caught Greg making the card…and somehow we got into the discussion of who was the perfect man for you," he cleared his throat a little, "Greg seemed to be convinced the only person good enough for you was, uh…me."

"No way…" Sara said, half in laughter and half with a snort of disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

"I kid you not," Gil said honestly, "he said that to me. "maybe he remembered that you inadvertently told him how you felt about me…" he shrugged.

"What are you talking about?" Sara asked.

"Waiting in line to get into the nightclub…you told him he was 'no Gil Grissom'," Gil reminded.

Sara avoided answering the question altogether, instead, she nudged Gil's arm and pointed out the couple who had passed by to go to the airplane lavatory together, "hey, Genius, I guess you made the wrong observation," she nodded to acknowledge the fact the young woman of the couple was in fact blind, and her companion had been leading her.

"Ah, well…" Gil turned and looked to Sara and smirked, "I'm sorry, I'm not as experienced in the mile high club as you are," he reminded.

Sara suppressed a smile and looked away, "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," she folded her arms in mock insolence.

"What was it you said when I asked if you brought anything to do on the plane?" Gil asked feigning innocence, "oh yes, that's it. 'That's what you're there for'."

"I was kidding," Sara nudged him playfully.

"I know," Gil said, he merely smiled.

"Notice how…how being so far away from work is…I don't know…relaxing…?" Sara asked.

"I know…finally we can…just be together without worrying about people seeing us and getting the wrong idea…"

"You're less tense than usual," Sara admitted, she placed her hand on his arm and gave an affectionate squeeze.

_Only on the outside_, he thought. _Inside, you don't know the crazy images even joking about the mile high clubs brings into my head_.

"Are you okay?" Sara asked, "you look a little hot."

"I'm fine, it's warm in here is all…" he shrugged.

"Take your shirt off, then," Sara went back to reading her magazine.

Gil let out a slow uneven breath, just that comment alone made him feel very uneasy, another rush of rather graphic images flashed into his head. _Okay, not so relaxed anymore_.

When they arrived at London Heathrow Airport, they were both thoroughly exhausted, the journey had been draining, and jetlag had already begun to settle in. Gil was feeling ever so slightly off balance, and Sara had a headache. They both felt so incredibly off colour that they did not take notice of any of the surroundings during the cab ride to a small hotel where they would be staying.

Arriving at the hotel, they had not been prepared to find out they'd be sharing a room. Gil had already arranged all this and insisted on separate rooms but now the hotel staff were admitting to a slight technical error in the booking.

Flustered, he'd tried to calmly argue with the staff at reception, but found himself growing more and more irritable, although managing to refrain from insulting comments about incompetence which were running so furiously through his head. He was getting so angry he was stammering, and finding it hard to continue with the conversation. The hotel was booked up completely, and as exhausted as Gil was, he didn't want to go look for another hotel. He wasn't sure why this bothered him so much.

Finally, it was Sara who pulled him aside to calm him down, "Gil…calm down…" she said softly, she took him by the arm and led him across the lobby.

"I'm sorry, I just…god…" he threw a look in disgust over to the reception staff.

"Look, it's fine," Sara had assured, "it's twin beds, we can deal with this…" she said, "it's not like we're being thrown into a double bed together."

"I know," Gil said, "I just..."

"It's for one night," Sara shrugged, "and we're mature adults…and…we are involved…this is a perfectly okay situation…"

It didn't feel like a perfectly situation, and he felt as relaxed as he'd felt earlier, he was going to be feeling very awkward from here on out.

"Sara…I don't think this is a good idea," Gil said, "I know it's only for one night, but—" he tried to explain, he could feel his temperature soar with frustration. He couldn't finish his sentence. Sara moved over and pressed her lips against his to silence him.

Gil wasn't prepared for how much the kiss would soothe him, and suddenly he didn't care about the other guests at the hotel or the reception staff who might be watching.

Sara moved back a moment later, and she smiled, "we'll be fine," she touched his face tenderly.

"Okay…" he nodded, finally calming down, he nodded to her to indicate he was fine now. He smiled and swallowed his feelings. Sara went to deal at the reception for him.

Ten minutes later, they were in the hotel room, Gil wandered over to the large windows to gaze over London in the broad daylight. He stood there for some moments, taking the view in, he heard Sara step behind him and he felt her wrap her arms around his waist from behind, he felt her chin upon his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I got mad down there, I don't know what got into me," he said, he placed his hands over hers, holding her arms tighter around her, the comfort she brought to him was like nothing he'd ever felt.

"Jetlag makes people irritable…and we had a long flight," Sara reminded.

"We need to get some sleep," Gil sighed, "we don't have long before we have to catch our flight to Glasgow…"

"Five hours," Sara said, she glanced to the clock on the wall, she left a small affectionate kiss on his neck and then let go of him, "I'll get changed in the bathroom."

Gil felt a cold chill sweep over him as her warmth left him. He turned to watch her leave into the bathroom. He still found his thoughts turning to how he would live through this whole trip without wanting to be with her intimately. It felt like it might be a very uphill battle.

While Sara was in the bathroom, he sat down on the nearest bed for one moment. He didn't expect that as he leaned back against the pillows, he might drift into sleep. He was only very dully aware of the feel of Sara plant a kiss upon his forehead before he completely fell into the blackness of slumber.

* * *

Don't ask me to try and calculate their trip exactly, because I can't figure it out, I'm shitty with stuff like that. I wouldn't focus too much on how long it took them to get to London or what time it is in london when they left at midnight in Vegas, etc. I failed math. Anyway...

I won't mention the reviewers over 3lines long right now (but I will in next chapter).

I know some people will be pissed that the chapter title is very misleading, but, hey, that's what's fun about writing, lol.

SS


	28. Chapter 28: Opportunity

**Chapter 28**

**Opportunity**

* * *

When Gil and Sara arrived in the city of Edinburgh, they were still drained of any energy, and had been very quiet, they barely said two words to each other during the two journeys, both on plane and train.

It was much a relief that when they finally reached the hotel in Edinburgh, that the booking plans had gone right. Sara had a suite to herself, and Gil had booked himself a small room on a different floor.

His arrival into Edinburgh had been a whir of chaos. Of new faces and names, they'd been greeted at the airport by three of the professors at the university. Gil feigned enthusiasm in meeting them all, and introduced Sara as his colleague. As excited as he was to be there, and to have this opportunity, the only thing Gil was really looking forward to was getting into his hotel room and sleeping through the night.

Finally managing to escape from the trio of professors after coffee in a VIP room in the airport, Gil and Sara arrived at the hotel together by cab, again, neither taking any interest in looking out of the cab windows on the way, but rather just struggling to keep from dozing off on the backseat.

They separated in an elevator, to go to their separate rooms. Neither had much to say to the other, they were too tired and still jet lagged. Every now and then they would glance at each other. Gil knew silence spoke volumes, he didn't need to hear Sara say a word.

Gil only stopped to take his jacket off as he arrived in his room. Without even kicking off his shoes, he let himself drop on the bed, and curled up to immediately sleep.

He wasn't sure how long he'd slept for. He had not been paying attention to clocks since his arrival. All he knew was when he awoke, it was four am in Edinburgh. Everything seemed deathly quiet, the room dark and unfamiliar around him. He lay there for some time. The whole of the journey now seemed nothing but a blur that had gone by quickly.

Gil got up, and pulled himself together, giving the clock on the wall a quick glance before he went into the bathroom to splash water on his face. He heard a knock at the room door while he was in the bathroom. Quickly, he patted his face dry, and left the bathroom to find out who was knocking at four am.

He opened the door cautiously, surprised to see Sara there. She looked as tired as he felt, her hair was disheveled, much the same way it had been when he'd seen her wake up before they'd left to get the plane to Glasgow. Her eyes were puffy, her cheeks slightly pale, "hey," she said.

"Jetlag?" Gil asked.

Sara gave a nod.

Gil let her in, "is it just me or is it chilly?" he asked, he shivered slightly, the temperature in

"Gil, it's snowing outside," Sara gestured towards the window. The drapes had not been pulled and large flakes of snow danced across the dark sky.

Gil moved over to the window to look out over the quite streets, the snow made everything seem almost pristine and ethereal. Sara came over to stand beside him.

"Snow…in April. I'd expected rain, but not snow," Sara mused.

Gil leaned on the windowsill, his face close to the glass, "I love watching snow," he said with a boyish expression on his face, "and the view from here is fantastic…" he added.

Sara gave a soft yawn, she stood with her arms folded, "everything is so quiet compared to Vegas. It's like the streets are dead out there."

"Edinburgh sleeps," Gil commented, "even in the heart of the city," he added. He left the window, "we haven't said much to each other almost all day."

"We've been tired," Sara reminded.

"I was beginning to worry maybe things were starting to feel awkward," Gil confessed, he chewed the inside of his cheek.

"I don't feel awkward, at all. I do feel irritable and exhausted though," Sara sat down on the bed, ran her fingers through her hair. "Do you feel awkward?"

Gil paused considering his answer, then finally said, "a little." He wished he hadn't spoken at all, he knew she'd want to ask why now.

"About?" Sara asked immediately, as if on cue.

"It doesn't matter," he assured, he didn't feel like explaining the sexual tension that had been bothering him as of late.

Sara remained quiet, she sat using her fingers to brush her hair. Gil watched her for several minutes, then took a seat beside her. He could have sworn she was pretending to be nonchalant, and he hated it when women did that. Nonchalant on the outside and brooding on the inside when men such as he refused to answer a simple question.

"Okay…" he said, "really? I feel awkward because…this is the first time we've been truly…alone. Without chances of interruptions, without work getting in the middle…"

Sara turned to him, her eyes meeting his, she merely nodded as if understanding how he felt, but said nothing more.

Gil reached out and took her hands, slightly apprehensive and shy again. He ran his thumbs over the top of her hands tenderly, and looked into her eyes. It was then Sara leaned forward to kiss him, catching his lips with hers.

Gil's troubles were temporarily soothed, and he began to forget about all his worries completely, her kiss was so distracting. Her felt her lead his arms around her, he'd still been holding her hands. The kiss, soft at first, began to deepen, Gil felt like a volcano, ready to erupt any second. He had to struggle with himself, tempted to take further action, he would have liked right then to push her down to the bed and make love to her in every single position he'd seen in the Kama Sutra.

Sara seemed to sense the conflict in him, and she pulled back as if to save him from falling under the spell of lust, "you okay?" she asked, she touched his face, he was breathing heavy, his cheeks hot, he seemed fevered.

"I'm fine," he assured.

"Wanna go for a walk, get some air?" Sara asked, she stroked his cheek.

Gil gave a nod, "yeah…yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

They left the hotel together after Sara obtained her jacket from her suite. They walked together, hands in pockets, shoulders hunched against a biting chill. Snow drifted down, touching their skin like frosty fairy kisses.

The city was beautiful, the orange light of the streetlamps hung down, making the snow glisten, they walked along old streets with cobbled roads and brownstone buildings, feeling almost as if they had temporarily stepped into a time warp, rather than a thriving city. The snow crunched beneath their feet as they walked together side by side.

Gil turned to look at Sara as they walked, she looked around the street in wonder, her eyes wide with curiosity.

An inner calm came over Gil, just being with Sara right then and there. It felt for that moment in time as if they were the only people alive on the planet, as if the world, the comfort of the night and the drifting snow, solely existed only for them. It was romantic. It was perhaps the most romantic situation Gil had ever found himself in. His heart melted as well as the snowflakes that touched his bare cheeks. He slipped his bare hand out of his pocket, and reached out to stop her in her tracks.

Sara stopped, almost slipping on the ice beneath the snow on the paving. She reached out to grip onto the sleeves of his jacket to support herself.

Gil had so many things he wished he could say right then and there to her. He wanted to say he loved her, he always had and always would. He wanted to get down on one knee and ask for her hand. He wanted to tell her she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known.

But he couldn't find those words right then, and he felt that if perhaps he should make any attempt to say them, he might ruin this perfect moment, and he would have to live with the guilt of it for the rest of his life.

Sara shivered, her nose and cheek were pink from the cold, her brown hair stirred in the gentle wind, "I can't believe we're here…" she confessed.

"Why?" Gil asked softly, he reached out and brushed her hair away from her cheek, he kept his eyes right on hers, never blinking, not once.

"Two months ago we weren't even able to tell each other how we felt, and now…here we are…" she smiled a little, "it's…overwhelming."

"I agree," Gil nodded, "It is."

"It's a little bit scary," Sara admitted, "it's so…perfect…it just leaves me thinking it can't be this good…something has to go wrong…"

"I wouldn't tempt fate if I were you," Gil slid his fingers into her hair and drew her close, he planted soft kisses on her cold cheeks. The cold felt as if it were starting to eat at his flesh with tiny invisible teeth, he tried to ignore it as he took her closer in his arms, and let his lips find hers, he kissed her softly then, savoring the feel as she ran her chilled fingers through his now damp hair.

_Tell her you love her. You know you love her, you need to let her know now. This is the most romantic moment of your life, this is the right time. You can't miss this opportunity,_ Gil, his thoughts screamed at him. _There might never be another more perfect moment. Don't blow it._

Sara shivered in his arms, she broke the kiss and took in an uneven breath, "I'm cold…" her voice quivered.

Gil stammered, "I…uh…"

Sara fixed the collar of his jacket absently. "Lets go back to the hotel…"

No, let's not, he thought, Lets stand here freezing our asses off long enough for me at least say I love you…

"Sara, I…uh…"

Sara raised her eyes from his collar to his eyes, waiting for whatever he intended to say.

"I…" he opened his mouth to speak again, the words just wouldn't come. His stomach swam in nausea as he tried to force the words out, but they just refused to be said. "I…" he tried again.

"You…?" Sara asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gil faltered. _Quick! Say something! Say anything! Don't lose your cool…_

Sara was still standing there, staring at him.

_Damn it, you've been in a relationship with her for over a month, you should be over this shyness by now! _He thought angrily with himself. _Don't just stand here like a half peeled vegetable, open your mouth and say something, doesn't have to be I love you, just has to be anything that she can believe_.

"I'm…really…glad you came…" he finally managed, it being the best thing he could come up with in such limited time.

Sara gave a short laugh as if she were relieved. "I'm glad I came too…" she pecked his lips, "c'mon, lets go," she took his hand, twining her fingers with his own.

Gil smiled a little, "okay…"

As they walked back to the hotel, his thoughts still ran constant, he still felt the anger with himself that he'd ruined the moment_. Okay, already one missed opportunity, but you still have a week to make up for it,_ he told himself. _A week is more than enough time to tell her you love her. More than enough._

* * *

I know, seems a bit boring. Typical thing for me to write on a rather bleak sunday, lol.I'll try and do something a bit meatier in the near future.

Thanks to the following readersfor reviewing over 3 lines long...

DolphinAnimagus, Aidrianna, PhDelicious, Erlina Silverstra, Ambient Flames, Cindy aka SG1PhileShipper, Crys Wimmer, Woody27, Scully as Trinity, jtbwriter and Kristy87 (hope I spelt all those names right). Everyone is starting to review over 5 lines now, which is even better than 3 (I get so excited!).

Btw, if anyone happens to be a member of the forums at drop me a line some time if you feel like it, I'm under the username Dismal Angel there. ;)

SS


	29. Chapter 29: Thoughts of Lust

**Chapter 29**

**Thoughts of Lust**

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Gil had always thought once he got to Edinburgh that everything would be smooth running. He'd thought ahead so much that he had assumed barely anything could go wrong. So he felt dismayed when he received a fax from the university that afternoon advising him that several things in the schedule had changed. The days of his lectures had changed and had been pushed forward, giving him less time to prepare than he'd originally intented.

Slightly upset, he'd called the university to ask what was going on, but all he had been fobbed off with was excuses about scheduling conflicts and that they'd tried to get in touch with him the day previous but he'd already gotten on the flight to London and had been unreachable. He'd politely asked why he couldn't have been informed of the changes when the three professors had met him at the airport, but no one seemed to have any answers on this and so he excused himself from the phone call, and hung up.

With the fax in his hand he left his hotel room and headed up four floors to find Sara in her suite. If his schedule was to change, hers would too, as well as some other things.

He knocked at the door, quickly folded the fax and put it in his pocket, he didn't want to break the news to her straight away.

It was several minutes before the door opened – Gil had on the brink of walking away when he heard the clicking of the door open, he'd already turned away and had to turn back to see Sara at the door.

He choked on his own breath, Sara was standing there clad in nothing but a white terrycloth robe courtesy of the hotel. Her hair was wrapped up in a matching towel. Her skin was moist, and she had foam on her legs.

"Hey…" she said brightly, she gave him a soft smile. She seemed so radiant, freshly scrubbed, her skin glowing, unspoiled by makeup.

Gil tried desperately not to focus on the bare area of her chest the terrycloth robe fell apart to reveal. "I, uh…" he cleared his throat, "hope I haven't come at an inopportune time."

"I was just taking a bath," Sara shrugged, she moved aside, "c'mon in," she offered, and waited for him to come in.

Gil stepped in, taking a moment to examine how lavish the suite was compared to the small room he'd booked for himself. Not that he cared too much for luxury, as long as he was comfortable where he was, he was fine, but he found a small part of himself envying Sara in this suite all on her own.

"Isn't this suite something else?" Sara asked, she closed the door behind him, and crossed the room, "it isn't as tawdry as half of the suites we've investigated back in Vegas," she commented, she unwrapped the towel from her head and let her wet hair fall down in dark brown corkscrews.

Gil felt an ache in a familiar place as he looked at her again. Her presence right then felt like nothing but a tease, and he was trying desperately to not let himself be bothered by this. He tried to visualize several things that would help maintain his control. Thinking of cadavers momentarily did the trick. Momentarily.

"It's…definitely something…" Gil moved over to the large windows, to gaze out over the streets of Edinburgh. The city was now full of life, the streets full of people, heavy traffic fighting for their destination down below. He snuck another look towards her, as she leaned forward to towel dry her hair, her robe came open a little more at the front and he saw the slight curve of her left breast beneath the pristine white fabric.

"Do you want to go site seeing, then?" Sara asked, "You have free time, don't you?" she dropped the towel on top of a nearby dresser, and she pulled her robe closed, leaving Gil thankful he no longer had the temptation to look.

"Ah, actually…" he coughed, "there's been a…slight hiccup somewhere," he admitted.

"Oh?" Sara asked, she was heading towards the nearest bedroom off the main living room of the suite. He followed her in and watched her cross the room to grab a hairbrush from the dresser and run it through her damp ringlets.

"They changed the schedule at the last minute," Gil finally said, "actually they changed the schedules yesterday – but we were on the plane by then and they couldn't get in touch to advise us…"

"Couldn't they have told us this at the airport when they came to meet us?" Sara asked, frowning.

"I asked the same thing but didn't get a straight answer," Gil sighed. "Anyway. the lectures are now pushed forward to tomorrow, Wednesday and Thursday. Which means that today I'm going to have to spend all my time focusing on preparing for tomorrow."

Sara looked at him, she put the brush down on the dresser slowly, "But…you weren't scheduled to lecture until Wednesday…" her face darkened, as she suddenly realised their time may be cut short, and that they would need to get to business a lot sooner than anticipated.

"I know, I'm not happy about it either," Gil nodded, "that's only the bad news, the good news is that Friday and Saturday we'll have enough free time to make sure we can do plenty of site-seeing," he moved over to her, "I'm sorry, this is all going horribly wrong."

"No, it's fine," Sara said, "I'm supposed to be a colleague on this trip, not your girlfriend, and the whole purpose of this trip is for you to lecture…not to be together," she reminded.

"I know," Gil responded, "But…I had hoped for a little time together. We'll be together in the evenings," he took the fax out of his pocket, "the formal dinners," he reminded. "But…it would be unwise to show any interest in each other whilst we attend."

"I understand completely," Sara said, looking crestfallen.

Gil took a minute to look at her, then moved over, "I'll make it up to you. I promise…" he placed his hands on her arms and squeezed affectionately, marveling at the wonderful softness of her robe beneath his fingers.

Sara moved forward, and instinctively he put his arms around her. Sara's head pressed onto his shoulder, he could feel the cold from her damp hair through the cotton of his shirt. He closed his eyes and held her to him, he touched her damp hair.

"I'm sorry I got you into this, Sara."

"It's fine," she murmured against his shoulder, "I'll find something to do. I'm in a whole new city…there's so much to do…" she stepped back to look at him, "at least we still have a few moments together," she tried to be positive.

Gil realised this were true, and he moved towards her to kiss her, catching her in his arms again. All the thoughts of lust came rushing back, so badly that he found himself trying to avoid pressing against her for fear she might become aware of his arousal.

_This is all so wrong, _he told himself_. I'm trying to not to brush up against her when I want to force her up against the nearest wall and press into her so she knows how she makes me feel._ He scolded himself for thinking such things, letting himself be drawn in by the kiss.

It was Sara now who was making the first moves, she deepened the kiss, it was her who parted her lips and let her tongue slide forward past Gils. Gil felt helpless but to respond to this.

She was driving him wild, and he would have given anything to jump into a cold shower right then to avoid this going any further. Everything he wanted to try and frantically ignore seemed to be forcing itself more and more into blatancy. The fact that he was in a hotel with her, in a lavish suite, in a bedroom, a large bed merely a foot and a half away. She was wearing nothing but this white robe. He could smell the citrus from her shower gel, he could smell the rosehip shampoo in her hair. He was suddenly also very aware that her breasts were pressed against him now as they kissed more passionately.

_Pull away now, if you let this go too far, you'll regret it_, he thought at himself, all the while he was trying to hunch slightly to avoid pressing against her at all. His heart was thudding in his chest rapidly, he could hear it within his own ears.

_It's too soon for this, it's too soon to let it go this far…you're not ready – your body says differently but you know what your heart is telling you. Pull away before you get too involved and won't have the nerve to resist her anymore_.

Gil wanted Sara to be the one to pull away this time, but she seemed quite content to let things continue the way they had been going. He wished he could be as free as she seemed to be in this respect, but his feelings for her were overweighing his own needs.

He was afraid. Afraid that if he let himself go too far then the relationship would quickly disintegrate after. He knew she loved him, he understood it so much it hurt, but despite knowing how she felt about him, there was always the small part of him that felt perhaps her infatuation was mostly from curiosity.

_What if we do make love, how quickly would it be before she lost interest_? He had to ask himself, he moved his lips over her in a kiss that was becoming fiercely frenzied in his excitement. His hand caressed her neck, and traveled down and across her bare shoulder, he realised her robe had fallen slightly loose at the collar. He marveled at how satiny her skin was. He wanted to touch her more, to probe further beneath that robe and examine how soft the rest of her body was.

_No, stop thinking about this. You're digging yourself into a deeper hole than you're already in. For the love of god, STOP_.

Her lips left his, and she had worked her way across his jaw, near his ear. Her mouth left his skin on fire, her fingers, along his neck left him with electric shivers. He chose this moment to recoil, "I…I have work to do," he admitted, his voice hoarse, so that he had to clear his throat.

"It can wait…" Sara objected.

"No…it can't…it really can't…" he swallowed nervously, hoping that she wouldn't glanced downwards and spot the height of his arousal which was now probably more evident than it had been before. "I…I really have to get to work on preparing for tomorrow…"

Sara merely looked at him, he couldn't tell if she was disappointed, angry, or both. Feeling that it was time to retreat, he forced himself to leave the room before Sara had been given any more opportunity to object. The first thing he had done when he had arrived in his own hotel room was to turn on the shower, and turn the dial all the way from hot to cold.

* * *

I'm going to mention the reviewers over 3 lines long every second chapter, at the moment, the reviews are giving me problems. I recieved 21 reviews this morning, but most of them were ones I'd already readso is ahving probs sending out the review alerts. I'll add the names of thsoe who reviewed over 3lines long in chapter 30.

To any of those who wonder why it's snowing in April in this story, I just thought I'd put that in because we had huge bouts of snow last week in Scotland. Plus it actually has been known to snow even in MAY in Scotland (seriously!). We don't get snow often, but when we does, it's usually at the weirdest times.

SS


	30. Chapter 30: Lack of Concentration

**Chapter 30**

**Lack of Concentration**

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* * *

****

Gil was having trouble concentrating on his lecture, although he never let the rows of students know it at all. He doubted even half of them were listening, knowing that forensic entomology probably wasn't fascinating them all that much at all. Half of them didn't even seem to see him standing there, they seemed to be looking past him to the wall as if he didn't even exist.

Even when Gil tried to keep the lecture entertaining, using little jokes, interesting anecdotes he'd come across in the field, nothing seemed to gain their interest. He began to wonder why he'd come at all. He'd been under the assumption that if he were to lecture here, the students would actually want to learn something.

Gil let his eyes scan the rows of seats in search of Sara, she was sitting in the third row, between a rather small blonde student, and one of the professors they'd met at the airport. Professor James Tavish was a man in his early fifties who – if not for his salt and pepper hair – might have passed for a man in his mid forties.

Sara was taking notes in general, this was all part of the evaluation process she had to participate in. Every now and then Professor Tavish would whisper something to her, and she'd turn very slightly to respond as quietly as possible. This was distracting enough, but every now and then Sara would throw him a look, but pretend it was merely her being fascinated by the subject, and she would look back down to her notes, writing with a furious precision and speed.

No matter how hard he tried to concentrate, his mind kept drifting to Sara's hotel suite the night before. He could still practically feel her lips soft on his neck. Every tiny sensation was still fresh in his mind.

Sara leaned near to Professor Tavish to hear something he was whispering. She smiled a little, her eyes glittered as in some secret sort of amusement. Gil didn't like it. Who was this guy anyway? Why did he have to lean so close to Sara at all. It seemed so disrespectful for Professor Tavish to be talking at all, surely he, a Professor, should know better than to be talking to someone during a lecture.

_Relax, Gil,_ he hold himself as he continued with the lecture. _He's probably coaching her on the evaluation. After all, there was always someone there to coach Cath whenever she joined me on a lecture._

Still, he couldn't really shake this feeling of jealousy that build up within him. He'd only ever felt it once, really, like this. When he'd discovered Sara had been having a relationship with Hank Pettigrew, he'd felt it then too. It wasn't a feeling he was used to.

Somehow this lecture brought him back to the first time he'd ever seen Sara Sidle, she'd been sitting listening so intently during one of his lectures, that he hadn't been able to help himself in approaching her after the lecture. He'd had to speak with her. He supposed perhaps if there had been a moment when he'd first found himself infatuated with her, it had been then.

Gil pressed on with the lecture, glancing over at Sara again. Now, Sara was glancing around the room towards the students, she'd turn to Professor Tavish and whisper something, to which he'd whisper back.

_This is insane, I'm up here lecturing when I should be with Sara sightseeing or making love to her in the hotel suite_, he thought.

His mind drifted again back to the day before. Twenty-four hours ago they had been in her hotel suite, and they could have been making love.

_Could have been making love_, he thought_, but weren't. Another missed opportunity. Why did I have to get cold feet? Look at the woman! She's beautiful and she loves me…and she was ready to take the next step with me. It definitely couldn't have gone wrong. We've been in a relationship for over a month…a month and a half actually…and we still haven't been together intimately. _

He stared towards Sara again as he spoke, she glanced up at him and give him a tiny smile, but it seemed incredibly forced and insincere.

_Most people are making love by the third date…I've even made love on the first date…why can't I just take the plunge with her?_

Gil tried to shake these thoughts of himself. It was no good to think of such things during the lecture. He wondered how he was able to stay on topic and still manage to think separately about Sara at all.

After the lecture, Gil watched Sara move quickly to pick ten random students for the discussion group for her evaluation. He watched her disappear off with her group with envy. He wanted to be with her.

As he was clearing away his notes, he was approached by Professor Tavish.

"Fascinating stuff," was the first thing Professor Tavish admitted, which left Gil with not much more response than a wary smile, mostly because he had to listen closely to the man when he spoke. Gil still hadn't completely adjusted to the Scottish accent. "Forensic Entomology is a fascinating subject. It's a shame the students weren't more immersed in the lecture."

Gil felt a stab of humiliation, he almost felt as if this man had said this deliberately as if to indicate the lecture had been rather boring. "Whenever I mentioned cadavers, they turned their attention on me," he tried to brighten up.

"Your colleague has formed her discussion group. I've given her the use of a staff room for the discussion," Professor Tavish explained. Gil hadn't even needed to ask. "She seems rather nervous, is this the first time she's accompanied you to one of your lectures?"

"Yes, actually it is," Gil responded, he placed his notes in his briefcase and snapped it shut, "I thought this would be a good opportunity for her…" he shrugged, "How long will this evaluation take?"

"Miss Sidle will be busy for the next few hours," Professor Tavish stated.

Gil looked at his watch, "Dinner is at eight, it's almost four now, and I have to work on tomorrow's lecture…" he fretted.

Professor Tavish straightened, "If you'd like to leave her, I'll make sure she's escorted back to the hotel in time to get ready for dinner."

Gil adjusted the sleeve of his jacket over his watch, "fine," he said, "please pass on this message, that when she gets back to the hotel, she should come and see me at once."

"Of course," Professor Tavish gave a curt nod.

Gil nodded politely at the man, and then quietly left.

Gil dialed his own work telephone number and left a voicemail message when he got back to the hotel. It was merely a message to remind Cath to take care of the insects he kept as pets, to remember to clear paperwork first thing during the shift before becoming preoccupied with fieldwork. It wasn't anything he hadn't already drilled into her, but he knew, Catherine being Catherine, would somewhere along the line, get preoccupied with something else.

He went over his notes back at the hotel, he marked off on his previous notes where the class seemed to lose interest in his lecture completely, he realised he was going to have to work much harder on the next lecture to keep their attention.

Seven pm came, and went. Sara had not come to see him and he began to feel immediate concern. What could take so long? How could it take three hours to discuss the lecture? No one had apparently been listening anyway!

Gil sighed, pulled himself up from the dresser where he'd been sitting with his notes, and forced himself to get dressed for dinner, although he felt less than enthusiastic about having to do so. After having dressed, he glanced to his watch to see it was seven-twenty-five pm. This was when he heard the sharp rap at his door. He knew it was Sara.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to find Sara already dressed for dinner, a burgundy pant suit with satin lapels, her lips were the colour of deep red wine.

"Sorry I didn't come straight away, I only got back about twenty minutes ago, and I had to rush to get ready," Sara explained.

"I was beginning to think I should send out a search party," Gil said mused, "what took so long?" he asked.

"Writing the evaluation…y'know, half those students weren't even paying attention…and I struggled to get any kind of conversation about the lecture out of them at all…"

"I kind of noticed," Gil sighed.

"I had to write the evaluation based on what they said, but I feel so bad because it doesn't look good for you…" Sara chewed her lip.

"It's fine…it's not me, or you, it's the students…right?"

"Yes," Sara nodded, "definitely the students."

Gil looked over her, "You look nice," he said.

Sara folded her arms, "just nice?"

"Enchanting?" Gil tried again.

"That's better," Sara glanced around the room absently, as she stood there.

"Sara…can I ask you something?" Gil asked.

"Hmm?" Sara turned her attention back to him.

"Was the lecture boring…?"

"What?" Sara asked, she blinked.

"I mean…you attended one of my lectures years ago…where we first met…and you always said it was fascinating…I was just wondering if this lecture I've just given was…more boring than the lecture you attended."

Sara faltered for a moment, "I didn't think it was boring at all…"

"Then why do you have to hesitate to answer?" Gil asked.

"I didn't…" Sara said, she gave a tiny nervous laugh.

"Right…" Gil trailed off, "it was boring."

"I never said that," Sara stated calmly.

"No, but you were thinking it," Gil uttered, his expression full of hurt.

"Don't tell me what I'm thinking," Sara remarked quickly, Gil didn't miss the anger in her voice.

"Fine, I won't," Gil mumbled sourly, "C'mon, we'll be late for dinner."

* * *

Thanks to the following people for reviewing over three lines long: MissAmanda, Kristy87, djkittycat, ScullyAsTrinity, and AmbientFlames.

In reference to djkittycat's review saying she's never known it to snow in Edinburgh, actually it's been snowing in Edinburgh today, 1st March, I woke up and there was snow on the ground, and Fife (across the Firth) is all white. It's starting to melt away now because it's started raining, but I did take a nice picture of my snowy street the minute I woke up. I've also seen snow here in MAY, so it's not completely impossible.


	31. Chapter 31: Jealousy

**Chapter 31**

**Jealousy**

* * *

****

Dinner was what Gil could only describe to himself as being extremely uncomfortable. He and Sara had not said two words to each other since leaving the hotel and the whole cab ride to the restaurant had been tense. It seemed and Sara could not even look at each other.

During the course of the meal, Gil and Sara somehow managed to avoid speaking to each other. Sara seemed more interested in conversing with Professor Tavish, and Gil spoke with Professor's Ellen Greggory and Frederick Smith

Gil couldn't believe how furious he felt with Sara at that moment. He'd thought their relationship would have given her the freedom to be honest. Why had she lied? If she had lied with such ease about that, what else was she lying about?

Absurdly, the question of the birth control kept popping into his mind. Was she using it? And if so why was she using it if he and she weren't intimate. Could she be sleeping with someone else?

_Hold on, Gil, you just stepped off of the crazy train and walked right into paranoid central_, he told himself_. When can she find the time to have an affair? Has she ever given you any reason to think she's having one? You're being ridiculous_.

For the first time that evening since arriving, he let his eyes search across the table to see her, she took no notice of him, as if he had never existed at all.

"Where do you find the time to have a personal life in your field?" Professor Tavish was asking, and Gil could have sworn the man might be trying to subtly hit on her. Somewhere deep inside of him, his bloody was starting to simmer.

"Uh, I don't, really," Sara took a sip of her wine.

"That's not true."

It seemed like for that moment everyone at the table fell silent, completely, turning slowly to face Gil who had spoken up with such a definite frost in his tone. This was the first time Sara had turned to look at him all evening.

"Excuse me?" Sara blinked.

"Personal life…you surely must have a personal life," Gil tried to be nonchalant, "you have a boyfriend back in Vegas, surely that has to count as something."

Sara's cheeks seemed to go very ashen for a moment, "Well…I'm not sure where that counts. And for your information," she cleared her throat a little, "he doesn't like to be called my 'boyfriend'."

Professor Tavish gave a soft laugh, "I can't imagine any man not wanting to be called your boyfriend."

"I don't think it's the general idea of being a 'boyfriend' that probably daunts him," Gil shrugged, "more likely the word doesn't seem like the right description."

"No, you're absolutely right," Sara picked up her glass once again, "the word asshole seems to fit more accordingly."

Gil felt his eyes widen a little, and he stared at her, had she really just called him that in front of all these people? And did they even know at all what was really going on here at all.

"Lovers tiff, eh?" asked Professor Greggory, her tawny eyes glittered with amusement.

Gil felt his cheeks grow hot. _Asshole? Why am I an asshole? Because I lost my temper when she lied to me! Why is she turning this all around on me? If she'd just been honest with me this whole thing could have been avoided_.

"Oh, it's nothing," Sara assured.

Gil was secretly fuming, "Sara…"

"Yes, Grissom?" Sara glanced across the table, she raised a quizzical eyebrow, but remained calm and collected.

"May I speak with you a moment?" Gil stood up. He realised this must have looked terribly suspicious to the professors, but right then, he didn't really give a damn. He had to get things straight with her before this went on.

Sara hesitated almost as if she had intended to say no, then she stood slowly, "excuse us," she said quietly.

Gil led the way to the quietest section of the restaurant, a small separate hallway leading to the restrooms. This way they were out of sight and earshot of everyone else in the restaurant. "Why are you airing our personal business at the dinner table?" he asked the moment they arrived there, making no attempt to stay calm.

Sara gave something of a laugh of disbelief, "you're asking me that after you brought it up?"

"I can't believe you're so naïve. Professor Tavish was snooping…he's interested in you, look at all the attention he gives you when he'll barely utter two words to me or any of the other guests."

"Right now I find it quite understandable why no one would want to utter two words to you," Sara said in contempt.

Gil fell silent for several moments. "You made it obvious to everyone at the table that we're involved."

"No, Grissom," Sara folded her arms, "you did."

"Why am I getting the blame for this! You were the one who lied!"

She shook her head in disbelief, "Jesus Christ, I can't believe you're mad because I told a little white lie!"

"What other white lies do you tell, Sara?" Gil demanded.

"I don't tell any other white lies," Sara spun around and started to walk away, but Gil caught her wrist to pull her back, he wasn't finished with her yet.

"I'm not done with you yet," he said.

Sara tried to withdraw from his grasp, "what, is this you finally growing a backbone?" she demanded. Her eyes flickered with anger.

Gil let go of her wrist at once, "I want to know why you lied!"

"Because I didn't want to hurt your feelings, you stupid—" Sara caught herself as a woman who'd been dining in the restaurant passed by to go to the restroom, she and Gil both felt silent, and waited until she'd disappeared into the ladies room before continuing.

"I can handle the truth," Gil remarked bitterly.

"Fine, you know what?" Sara's eyes were wide in anger, "your lecture sucked! No one cared! The five male students I spoke to didn't listen to a word you said. Three of the female students admitted they were sending text messages to each other on their phones while you were talking, one of the students had a genuine interest in entomology and you even bored her to tears, and the last female student only gave a little interest because she thought for a man of your age you had – what she deemed was – 'a tight arse'."

Gil felt as if he'd just been punched in the stomach, the wind knocked out of him completely. He stared at her, feeling very hurt and dejected.

"So there you have it," Sara clenched her fists, "that's why I lied," she said, she lowered her voice, she looked away and took in a deep breath as if she were trying to cool down this heated temper of hers.

The only word Gil could manage was "oh," and then he fell completely silent, looking away from her, feeling flustered. Now any anger he'd felt towards her was suddenly directed at himself.

_I sucked_, he thought_. They truly thought I sucked. Oh my god, this is the beginning of the end…_

Sara finally let her eyes find him again, "so now you know why I lied."

Gil tried to pull himself out of the funk, "I have 'a tight arse'?" he asked, trying to lighten the moment, but Sara didn't smile. He couldn't even smile himself. The moment just seemed to grow even more tense than before.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," Sara pursed her lips, she didn't find it remotely funny, she found this argument rather serious. "And for your information, Professor Tavish is probably more attracted to you than he is to me."

Gil raised an eyebrow, "excuse me?"

Sara rolled her eyes, "He's gay."

Gil blinked, "how…do you know?"

"Because he told me he lives with his partner Gabriel and I don't think by partner he meant his business partner. And the reason he was paying me so much interest is because the other professors don't really fraternize with him at all," Sara took a deep breath, "so your jealousy is wasted."

"I'm not jealous," he fumed.

"Yes you are," Sara remarked, "that's why you had to bring up the fact that I was seeing someone in front of him."

Gil wished he could hide in a big black hole right then. He felt like such a fool, and so completely wrong for having overreacted in the way he had. Now it hit him like a brick in the face. He shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, he certainly shouldn't have blamed her for lying. Now he even wished she hadn't told him the truth at all.

"I…" he tried to find the words to apologise but they abandoned him completely, as words always did when he was distressed.

"Save it…" Sara shook her head, and she turned again to walk away.

Gil caught her arm again, he spun her around, caught her other arm, pushed her backwards and pinned her to the wall, pressing his lips hard against hers in the kind of desperate kiss that he realised he would later assume was for no other reason than overcompensating.

Sara went rigid, and she tried to struggle with him at first. Then, she kissed back with just as fierce a passion as he was. Gil was the one to break the kiss, they were both out of breath, chests rising and falling heavily. He let go of her wrists slowly, noticing the blanched marks on her wrists where his hands had been.

She lowered her arms slowly, staring at him, "we…uh…should get back to dinner…" she admitted.

Gil leaned into peck her lips softly, the inner rage beginning to dissipate quickly now, he took her hands, moved back to look at her, his expression pleading and apologetic, for he couldn't find the words to say he was sorry right now.

Sara sighed, she squeezed his hands, then let go, "come on, lets get back to the table."

* * *

Mention list for reviews over 3 lines long will be in chapter 32 :)

Thanks to everyone who's reviewing so far, it still makes my day!


	32. Chapter 32: New Plan

**Chapter 32**

**New Plan**

* * *

****

"Gil…you look exhausted," was the first thing Sara said when she opened the door to Gil that next morning. Despite Gil had dressed sharply for his second lecture, and despite he'd done all he could to tame his silvery curls, nothing could hide the dark circles under his tired eyes.

Gil gave a nonchalant shrug as she let him in, they'd decided to breakfast together in the suite before heading off to the university for the second lecture. He pecked her lips before heading over to the small dining table in the main room of the suite, a light breakfast of toast and various jams had arrived merely minutes before he had, and was already on the table, looking appetizing.

"Have you been up all night?" Sara asked.

"Jetlag has played havoc with my sleeping pattern," Gil pulled her chair for her, and let her sit first, he took a moment to examine the grey pant suit she was wearing, he'd seen her wear it once before, and had always liked its simplicity, especially on her. "I couldn't sleep, so I stayed up all night and worked on the lecture. This time, I'm going to blow them away."

Sara put a napkin in her lap, "oh?" she asked. "What's your new plan of action this time around?"

Gil sat down, he poured her a glass of orange juice, "first of all, you'll be sitting out of view," he said, "it's hard lecturing when someone you know is watching you – even harder when you can see them watching you and writing notes about your general presentation…I don't know, it was very distracting," he confessed. "I just couldn't concentrate yesterday."

Sara nodded, "I noticed," she lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip.

"So sit somewhere that won't be obvious to me," he advised as he poured himself a glass.

"Okay…" Sara shrugged, "is that your only plan? Have me sitting out of view?" she served herself some toast.

"Actually, no," Gil took a slice of toast from the plate, "I used my laptop last night to email Cath and had her send me some digital photos over the internet," he smirked, "I got the use of a colour printer courtesy of the hotel. I have some of the goriest pictures to use in the lecture, that should get some attention if nothing else," he smirked. "You know young people, they like a little gore now and then."

"You always think of something," Sara mused.

Gil paused, took a sip of his juice then asked, "are we okay after yesterday?"

"I already forgot about it," Sara shrugged, she spread some marmalade on her toast, "well…most of it," she added.

"Which part didn't you forget?" he asked out of curiosity.

"Being pinned up against the wall," Sara remarked, she didn't meet his eyes but Gil thought he saw the tiniest smirk as she pretended to be more preoccupied in spreading marmalade.

"Why'd that stick out in your mind?" Gil asked trying to be very nonchalant, but couldn't help but feel the slightest tinge of pleasure that she hadn't quickly forgotten it – or that she was thinking about it at all for that matter.

"It was just…incredibly unlike you," she responded with a shrug. "It was spontaneous."

"Hey, where do you get this assumption I'm not spontaneous?" he demanded grumpily, "I was the first to kiss you, remember?"

"Yeah, only after I wounded your pride by insinuating you were a wuss," Sara smirked, she took a large bite of her toast, smirking as she chewed.

"You are cruel, miss Sidle, very cruel," Gil teased, he buttered his own toast. "I can be spontaneous, believe me. I only do it when the moment is right though."

"You only do it when you're all riled up!" Sara exclaimed, she laughed.

Gil pursed his lips to stop from smirking, he supposed in some way she might be right, it did seem to be whenever he felt particularly provoked that he became impulsive. Sara's comments that he'd never have had the nerve to send her an anonymous valentine, Catherine's suggestion he should 'be a man', and then Sara's insolence to him the night before – all these things had resulted in some pretty intense kisses.

"This might be an exhausting relationship if I have to get your back up just to get some action from you," Sara grinned.

Gil took a bite of his toast, he couldn't find a response to this that seemed to fit the situation at all.

_You know, Gil_, he thought to himself as he examined the clock on the wall_. If you're quick, you could make love, have a shower and get to the university in time for the lecture_.

He shook the thought out of his head, he tried to focus on breakfast.

"What day do we leave?" Sara asked, feeling incredibly disorientated as to when they'd arrived.

"Sex."

"Excuse me?"

Gil blinked, he couldn't believe he'd said it. It had been one of those things he hadn't realised what he was saying until he heard it after the fact. He winced and tried to play it off quickly, "huh?"

"You said 'sex'."

"I said the sixth."

"You said 'sex'," Sara corrected, raising an eyebrow, he could see her eyes were dancing with laughter, but she was deadly quiet, he could tell she was holding it in.

"I assure you, I said the sixth," Gil took another quick sip of his orange juice, the heat rising in his cheeks.

"Who's telling who lies now," Sara grinned from ear to ear.

Gil looked over at her, "lets not start that again, please?"

"Fine. But you said 'sex'," Sara ate her toast.

"Sixth."

"Sex."

"Sixth."

"Sex."

Gil realised he was fighting a losing battle, he didn't know how he could talk his way out of this one. "I meant the sixth," he finally stated as if to give in.

"You meant it, but you said 'sex'. What's thatsupposedstatistic, that guys think about sex every seven seconds?"

"That's an urban legend," Gil remarked.

"How often do you think about sex?" she asked boldly.

Gil wished he could find a way to drop the subject but she seemed intent on talking about it. He wondered if turning the tables would do the trick. "How often do you think about it?" he raised an eyebrow. He was hoping this question might have negated the whole discussion.

"On average, it's hard to say," Sara licked marmalade from her middle finger, "but I was thinking about it when you pinned me against the wall," she winked.

_I didn't need to hear that_, he thought, although he'd had to admit,Sara hadn't been the only one thinking of sex at that particular moment.

"So come on, out with it…"

"Out with what?" he blinked.

"I told you, now you tell me," Sara ordered, "that's the deal."

"I never struck any deals with you," Gil admitted. "Now…to answer your previous question, we're leaving on the sixth at six pm to catch the train to Glasgow. We're going the same route we came."

"Fine," Sara nodded, "now back to my latter question…how often do you think of sex?" she was determined not to let the subject drop any time soon.

"Why is it a big deal?" he asked, "it's not like we're having sex so why does it even matter?"

"It just does," Sara said, "it interests me."

"Why?"

"Because you're such a dark horse. No one ever knows what you're thinking," Sara confessed, "sometimes I wish I could just read your mind, I'd love to know what goes on in there."

"Sometimes I don't even know what goes on in my own head," he mused.

"Why is it whenever the subject of sex comes up you get strangely awkward?" Sara asked, she let her elbow rest on the table, and propped her cheek up in her hand, she stared at him as if she were fascinated.

"I don't get awkward."

"We've been romantically involved for a month and a half, Gil. You don't think it's odd we haven't been intimate yet?"

"I…uh…" he stammered, "well…"

"See…awkward as hell," Sara gestured with her other hand, "the other night, we were in the bedroom and I was on fire, and then you just…step away."

"I don't want to get into this right now," He said in a small voice.

"Why not?"

"Because I have an important lecture to give in an hour – and I don't want to be distracted thinking about what we've just been discussing."

"You mean what I've been discussing, because you've just been stammering and avoiding answering any questions whatsoever," Sara smirked.

Gil could have sworn that the smirk on her face was sheer pleasure from the fact she was making him feel uncomfortable with the subject.

Can't avoid this subject forever, though, he told himself. Sooner or later, you will be sleeping with her. How can you be expected to do it if you can't even talk about it? God, why is it only with her? I never get this awkward about sex with other women.

Sara was looking at him as if she expected him to say something.

Gil took in a deep breath, "we'll talk about this…when I'm ready," he said as if to finalise the conversation, "for now, I have to focus on my lecture…or I'm going to be doomed to bore the asses off those students again."

* * *

Thanks to the following people for reviewing past 3 lines:

Ambient Flames, Aidrianna, jtbwriter, Miss Amanda, and Kristy87

Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I had fun writing it, hehe.


	33. Chapter 33: It's Fine

**Chapter 33**

**It's Fine**

* * *

Gil's new plan worked, to a certain extent. Using some of his rather gruesome crime scene photos of maggot infested cadavers, he was able to somewhat capture the attention of the students – although he could have sworn some of them had begun to grow very pale as the lecture progressed. Still, he had their attention, and that was what counted.

Sara was somewhere in the back, he couldn't locate her, there were over two hundred students attending the lecture, and since several of those were female students with brown hair similar to Sara's, it was hard to pinpoint her – which he was glad of. He felt if he had seen her, he might have been distracted once again.

However, part of him was very distracted. Despite he was desperately trying to not think of the conversation he'd had with Sara that morning, his mind kept drifting back to it. However, if anyone had noticed his distractedness, they had yet to say.

Gil was glad when the lecture was over, fatigue had begun to settle over him like a huge weight. He had not felt this tired in years. He fell asleep in the cab on the way to the hotel, and the driver had to awaken him to announce they'd arrived at the destination.

When he finally got to his hotel room, he collapsed to the bed in exhaustion.

It was hours later, when a loud knocking at his door startled him awake, and he sat bolt upright, the room was almost completely dark, the window was streaked with rainwater which was throwing patterns on the nearby wall. At first, he'd been so completely disorientated he hadn't known what the knocking sound had been. When the knocking sound came again, he saw sense. He pulled himself up with a yawn, and headed towards the door.

Sara stood there, "I've been knocking for ten minutes," she remarked almost instantly. She stood there in a black skirt suit, a cream blouse peaking through between the lapels. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant but simple style which seemed to accent how beautiful she was even more than usual.

"What time is it?" he yawned, he scratched the back of his neck.

"Almost seven thirty," Sara glanced at her watch quickly, "we're supposed to be at a dinner party at eight," she reminded.

"I slept in…sorry…" he sighed. "I can be ready in five minutes…" he assured.

Sara sat down on the bed, she smoothed out the blankets absently, "I can wait."

Gil rushed to the bathroom with his suit to get ready, he heard Sara humming to herself absently, "How did you find the lecture today?" he called through to the bedroom as he was changing.

"Stimulating," Sara responded, she then paused, "the students were drawn in with the crime scene photos, just like you thought they'd be."

"I noticed. Now I have a secret weapon."

"One of the girls I spoke to actually said she found the lecture 'cool' – just thought you'd like to know that."

"Really?" he asked.

"Really," Sara responded.

Gil finished dressing and stepped back into the bedroom.

"That was some fast changing," Sara turned around to see him, "what are you, Superman? Did you spin around faster than the speed of light and just automatically end up wearing that suit?" she smirked.

"I'm a man of many special powers," Gil grinned, he tried to smooth down his grey curls as best he could while he stood in front of the mirror at the dresser.

Sara stood slowly, "how did you manage to be so completely fascinating today during the lecture with having so little sleep?" she asked.

"Another one of my special powers. Are you impressed?"

"Yes, very."

"My body definitely isn't used to pulling whole nights without sleep anymore…" Gil grabbed his necktie from the dresser where he'd left it and put it on with fast precision.

"I feel that way, too at the moment," Sara gave a little yawn, "I can only assume it's jetlag. I can go at least two or three days without sleeping most of the time…"

Gil examined her reflection in the mirror, "you look elegant," he said.

"Elegant enough to impress?"

"I'd say so," Gil nodded.

"I hate dressing like this, I feel stupid," Sara sighed, "not to mention uncomfortable, I wish I could just go wearing jeans and a tanktop."

Gil smirked, "you look stunning in anything," he said, "even when you wear coveralls."

Sara grinned, "is that so."

"Yes, it is."

"Can I ask something?"

"Yes," Gil glanced over his shoulder at her.

"I was just wondering…since you said you spoke to Catherine via email…Did Warrick tell Catherine he was the one behind the secret admirer thing?"

"Nope," Gil finished with his tie and turned towards her, he rested his backside against the dresser, and stood with his arms folded. "In her email she asked me to tell her who it is, but I refused. It's not my place to say, really, is it?"

"I guess not," Sara responded.

"I don't understand it, Cath can't see what is right under her very nose."  
"Sometimes that happens," Sara said, "the clues are all there, the answer is front of you but you keep looking around it."

Gil straightened up, "I can kind of relate, when you put it like that."  
"I'm sure you can."

This time, dinner was much easier than It had been the previous time, although Gil and Sara barely said a word to each other – more to do with being engrossed in the Professor's conversation rather than ignoring each other – the atmosphere was more comfortable and familiar. Every now and then Gil and Sara would steal a glance towards each other, being able to interpret the tiniest smiles as much more meaningful than perhaps anyone else at the table would have.

When dinner ended, the group – consisting of three professors, the wife of one professor, and Sara and Gil – moved on to a public house known as the Conan Doyle. The place was quiet, but atmospheric and strangely enchanting. He and Sara offered to buy the first round of drinks, it had only seemed fair.

For the first time that evening since leaving the hotel, they found themselves for the most part alone at the bar.

"I'm sorry I got you stuck in this situation," Gil said after he'd ordered the drinks at the bar, he watched the girl behind the bar making fast work of pouring whiskeys.

"It's fine," Sara assured.

He touched her arm in a tender but unsuspicious way. "Tomorrow is the last night, I promise. Then it's just you and me from then on…" he said softly.

Sara turned to look at him, "it's fine, I'm enjoying it, really," she forced a smile.

"You can be honest if you're having a bad time…" he said under his breath, he leaned a little closer so she'd hear.

"I promise, it's fine," Sara assured.

Gil felt that despite Sara's smile, that she really wasn't having a good time at all. He wondered how in the world he could ever make this up to her. Midway through the first drink, he came up with something.

Every so often, while he was talking to the Professors, he would feign little yawns, and apologise with the explanation he'd had very little sleep since coming to Edinburgh. It was believable – and somewhat true.

"Do you want to leave?" Sara asked, not at all catching on to his lies.

"Actually, I think it's for the best, I wouldn't want to pass out here on the table, or anything," Gil had admitted, he'd winked, and then apologized again to the Professors. Bid them farewell, and he and Sara had left together.

They left the public house together, and walked along the street whilst trying to flag down a black taxi cab. Several passed but most had their 'for hire' signs turned off unfortunately, or had people already in the back.

Gil maintained an expression of complete innocence, "see, you're not the only one who can lie."

Sara turned and looked at him, "huh?"

"You're not the only one who can lie," he repeated.

Sara raised an eyebrow, "what are you talking about?"

"I'm not in the least tired…I slept most of the day away after the lecture. I'm pretty awake now…" he turned and looked at her, "so…miss Sidle…what do you want to do now?"

Sara stared at him, quite taken aback, "Uh…I don't know…what do you want to do?"

"Lets…I don't know…go somewhere fun or something…"

"Somewhere fun?" Sara gave a laugh, "You're kidding, right?"

"Why would I be kidding?" he asked, they walked a little up the street together far away from the public house. Finally when they were out of view of the large glass windows, Gil put his arm around her shoulders.

"Because it's very unlike you…"

"I know…" Gil said.

"And you have a lecture tomorrow – early."

"I know, I know. But we don't have to stay out all night," he shrugged. "So how about it? Do you want to go do something fun?"

"Like?"

"I don't know…" Gil paused, "we might be able to catch a movie, or…we could…find a nightclub?"

Sara looked at him, "You know I'd be quite happy to go back to the hotel and watch a movie with you."

"We could do anything right now and that's all you want to do?" he asked, it was his turn now to raise an eyebrow.

"Honestly, you want to know why?" Sara asked softly, she stopped in the middle of the street.

Gil nodded, he reached out to brush away a stray lock of her hair that had come loose of her twisted style.

"I have spent most of the time here sharing you with students and professors and I've barely seen you alone for ten minutes, which is precisely how long it took you to get through breakfast…honestly, having some time with you alone would be heaven right now…"

Gil paused, having to think about this. Alone in a hotel, as appealing as it was, it was somewhat daunting. _Does she mean the bedroom or…in the living area of the suite_? He wondered.

"I…uh…" he gave a nervous smile, "in the hotel suite? On the couch?" he asked, knowing there was a small television in the hotel suite with a couch facing it.

"Of course…" Sara said, she raised an eyebrow as if to ask where he'd thought she'd meant.

"I'd love to watch a movie with you," he said.

Sara smiled, "okay…"

"Okay."

* * *

Mention list for the 3 line reviewers will be coming up in 34. I know this chapter is blah, I've had a pretty mundane day with barely any inspiration but I'm going to try and get something more exciting in the next chapter ;)

Luv ya all,

SS


	34. Chapter 34: Future?

**Chapter 34**

**Future?**

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****

Gil wasn't paying attention to the movie, and he pinpointed the reason for this was that Sara was undeniably close to him on the couch. The couch was small, and even sitting as apart as they could seemed too close. And as she slid closer still to lay her head on his shoulder, he was compelled to slide his arm around her, and eventually did so, and moments later, he slid his other arm over her to hold her to him even nearer. He wondered if she could hear the rapid and excited beat of his heart with her head so close to his chest.

It was strange, the feeling of this new closeness between them. Gil couldn't remember having settled down with a woman in his arms this way other than after sex. So, he found it very unusual that here he was now with his arm around Sara, and they'd never gone further than passionate kissing. It was almost like the whole thing in reverse – without the sexual intercourse of course.

The most intriguing thing Gil found was that it felt more right than it ever had with any other woman he'd been with. It felt almost like this was where she'd belonged. There had been so many times in the past years when he'd wished he could just hold her in his arms in such a way, and now that the moment was here, and he had her in his arms, it was somewhat overwhelming, but reassuring. For that moment then, he was more content than he'd been for several years.

The scent of her hair – which had now all come free of the elegant twist she'd arranged it in at the start of the evening – caught his attention as it always did, and he breathed in deeply, closing his eyes for just a short moment. He leaned in just a little closer and breathed in again. The scent seemed to wrap completely around his heart.

He felt her rise a little, and heard her soft laugh.

"Did you just smell my hair?" she asked, smirking.

"Sorry, it's all over the place – kind of right in my face," he said, feeling a little flustered. He tried to look past her towards the television to distract himself but in this close proximity it was useless.

"No…it's fine," she assured.

Gil straightened up a little, "it smells good, by the way," he admitted bashfully.

"Why are you so embarrassed?" Sara sat up straight, she tucked her hair behind her ears, "after all this time, you still blush like a kid."

"I'm not embarrassed, I'm just…hot," Gil said, he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, he tried to look past her, he felt if he looked at her anymore he might just die of the embarrassment right then.

_Man, what is wrong with me, there's nothing wrong with this and I still can't relax. I wish we had gone somewhere else other than here, it might have been easier_, he thought sullenly.

"Yeah, it's freezing in here and you just happen to be hot," Sara rolled her eyes, smiling. She sat with her legs folded up on the seat of the couch, she put her hands in her lap, "Why do you get so shy?"

"I…uh, don't," he swallowed, he straightened up a little more, trying to compose himself as seeming cool and confident.

Sara gave the expression that said she didn't buy this at all, "you don't get shy?" she asked.

"Not anymore," he lied.

"Right…" Sara raised an eyebrow. "I totally don't believe that. Look at you, you're embarrassed right now," Sara pointed out.

"I'm not embarrassed, trust me," he said, growing more and more flustered by the second and trying to desperately hide it.

"Oh?" Sara asked.

Gil nodded.

"Okay then, so…this won't embarrass you…" with one fluid motion, she slipped the blouse she'd been wearing off over her head, and tossed it over the back of the couch.

"Sara!" he admonished, he looked away, putting his hand to the side of his face as if to shield her completely from view. Somehow he'd managed to react fast enough to ensure that he'd seen nothing inappropriate.

"See…embarrassed," she nudged him, she was laughing.

"Please…put that back on…" he pleaded, he shut his eyes tightly trying to force out the image of her pulling that blouse off so freely.

Sara was doubled over with laughter, "I can't believe you're so uptight!" she got up and moved to the back of the couch.

"I'm not uptight," Gil retorted, he glanced over the back of the couch. Sara had her back turned to him, and was sliding the blouse back over her head. Gil caught the glimpse of the back of her pristine white lace bra. He shuddered, thinking how much, right then, he wished he'd taken the time to look at the front of it before turning away in shock.

He turned back to face the television before Sara could see him looking. She stood behind the couch, she put her hands on the back and leaned down.

"You mad at me?" she asked near his ear in a soft murmur.

"No, just…uhm…surprised," he confessed, he stared at the television seeing through it rather than seeing it at all.

She leaned further over the couch and wrapped her arms around his neck, "I was just playing. But I'm being honest, you're way too uptight."

"You always knew I wasn't as open and relaxed as other guys," Gil reminded, he turned his head slightly to see her out of the corner of his eye.

Sara brushed her lips against his left temple, "I know, I know," she sighed. "And I kind of like that…but sometimes it just…worries me."

He turned around in his seat, causing her arms to loosen around his neck instantly, "why does it worry you so much?"

"Because it does. I just keep wondering if this is where the relationship is kind of stuck, what future do we have?" she explained. Her eyes dully as she looked away from him for a moment, as if she were falling deep into some well of thought.

_Future_? He thought. _We have a future? What? Does she expect marriage and babies and everything straight away? Oh my god…why is it a woman's mind has to always run way, way ahead of the man's? She can't seriously be thinking about this commitment stuff already, surely? It's only been a month and a half…_

"Wait a minute," he said, trying to hide the fact he was a little jarred by her words, "so you're saying…that because we haven't slept together yet, or anything else for that matter…you don't see a future?"

"No…it's not that, I just wonder if this is as far as you feel the relationship can go…" Sara confessed, she moved around the couch and sat beside him.

"Sara…believe me…if I thought the relationship couldn't go any further, I would have never let it go on this long…" he looked at her, "this is the longest running relationship I've ever had with any woman…doesn't that count as something?"

"Of course it does," Sara admitted.

"Sara, I really…love…being with you," he said, he'd almost let himself say he loved her and he felt at this moment in time, it might be the wrong thing to say. It might seem too convenient, as if he was saying it only to keep her happy. "I know we're going slow in this…but…there's so many reasons why it's the right thing to do…" he explained.

"And the reasons are?" she asked.

"Because this…is real…this isn't some casual relationship to be rushed through and discarded…because we work together, because we've known each other so long that rushing might ruin our friendship, there are so many reasons. I want to take care with this…" Gil explained softly, "I care too much."

Sara was just looking at him, reading his expressions, listening to his words as he spoke to her with the kind of tenderness in his voice that she'd only ever heard when he spoke to her.

"I know it's frustrating—" Gil said, Sara interrupted quickly.

"You can say that again," she retorted, her eyes left his for a split second and she seemed all the more insolent than she ever had before.

Gil blinked, "Yeah…well…it's frustrating, but we've gone this long without rushing into things. Without the need to get physical…I think we can wait just a little longer…" he smiled, "besides…I'm not going anywhere…"

"So…this relationship definitely has a future?" Sara asked hopefully.

"I'd like to think so," Gil said, it seemed like the right thing to say although he wasn't sure how much of a future he imagined with Sara at all. Part of him would have been content to let things carry on as they were now without ever going much further. "But I don't think either of us should be worrying about the future of this relationship at all. Let what happens happen, right now, we should take it one day at a time and see where it takes us, okay? And when the time is right for something to happen…" he leaned over and pecked her lips, "it will," he got up slowly.

"Okay…" Sara nodded, she stood up too, realizing he was getting ready to leave.

"I need to go to bed," he kissed her forehead tenderly and pulled her into his arms for one quick hug.

"Is planning breakfast together worrying too much about the future?" Sara smirked a little.

Gil smirked too, and gave a little wink, "That's the immediate future, that's an entirely different situation."

* * *

Thanks to everyone who keeps reviewing! Love you all!

Thanks to the following for reviewing more than 3 lines long: jtbwriter, Aidriana, kristy87.

SS


	35. Chapter 35: Little Misunderstanding

**Chapter 35**

**Little Misunderstandings**

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****

The next mornings lecture was what Gil had decided to be the most successful of the three. This time, the students seemed much more attentive and focused. Unlike the first two lectures, they seemed interested in learning, and intent on asking all sorts of questions he had not expected.

The lecture had gone so incredibly well that Gil was almost sad to have it end so soon. He watched slightly crestfallen as the students piled out of the lecture hall. He tidied away his notes and looked around to see if he could find Sara. Sara was gone, he realised she must have gone to deal with her discussion group for the final evaluation.

The hall was empty, except from one girl who had come from the back of the benches, a young blonde with curly hair and bright blue eyes that glittered as she approached.

"Hey…" he said, straightening up a little.

"I…uhm…I attended all your lectures, I just wanted to say that what you said was really interesting," she admitted. She had a high sweet voice, and her accent was clear and sharp as if she were speaking plainly so he might understand.

"Oh?" Gil stopped, there was a table by the wall he had been standing by, putting his notes into his briefcase, "are you interested in forensic entomology?"

"Actually, I'm studying to be a doctor, but forensics has always kind of fascinated me…" she admitted, she smiled. "When I heard you'd be lecturing here, I just had to come. I've read books about murders in Las Vegas that you've solved with forensics. I'd have never known insects could be the key to estimating the time of death on a body until I read this book that had an interview with you in it. It's kind of cool. You're a celebrity in our midst."

Gil smiled, "actually…I'm just a man being paid to do what he loves. I don't really care for all the attention it can get me."

"You make forensics sound so incredibly captivating it makes me want to change my studies entirely," she spoke with a fierce fervor that left him very much reminded of Sara when she'd been a student attending one of his lectures.

Gil reached out to shake her hand, "what's your name?"

"Christine Ness," she shook his hand enthusiastically, a warm smile painted on her perfect pouting mouth.

"Christine, it's nice to meet someone with a genuine fascination with forensics," he smiled back at her.

Christine tossed her hair over her shoulder, "how long have you been doing this for?"

"Entomology, forensics, or lecturing?" he raised an eyebrow and gave a quizzical smile.

"Forensics," Christine responded.

"That's a long and drawn out story," Gil responded with a wink, "and I won't bore you with it…" he added, he glanced towards her, something small and black attached to the front of her blue shirt caught his attention, sitting just atop her left breast. He reached out and tentatively picked it up.

She watched his hand, almost confused for a moment, then seemed relieved when he moved it back to show her what he'd found.

"Attegenus unicolour…" he replied quickly, putting it into his open hand, "black carpet beetle…"

"Ugh, the flat me and my boyfriend share is full of these things…we can't seem to get rid of them," she uttered, "every time you move a piece of furniture they call come scuttling from under it…and these other…wormy things."

"The larvae…" Gil nodded, "is your place clean?"

"Excuse me?" Christine blinked. Her blue eyes were widened.

How blunt can you get? He wondered at himself. He tried to rephrase the question.

"Without sounding rude, I mean…are you and your boyfriend very neat people?"

"Yeah, actually," Christine nodded, she folded her arms casually, "we clean under the furniture at least two times a week. We vacuum, we dust, we clean every day, and we still can't seem to get rid of these things, they just keep coming back," she explained.

"Something in your home must be attracting them," Gil paused, "do you own any pets?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uhm…yeah, a dog…why?"

"There's your answer. You leave a bowl on the floor for the dog – that's a massive buffet to these things. I knew someone who had the same situation. Immaculate house that he had a cleaning lady scour every single day and still these beetles kept showing up – eventually discovered it was the cat food that had been left in the cats dish," he pushed the carpet beetle on his hand slightly with the tip of his finger so that it began to scuttle across his open hand.

"Ohhh…" Christine chewed her lip, "so…what do I do about it?"

"Cover up the food in the dog bowl whenever the dog isn't eating, that might help reduce the number it attracts. In the meantime, you might want to look behind baseboards, or cracks in the floor or moldings, they must be getting in somehow," he looked down at his hand, watching the beetle desperately move. "These things will eat just about everything…fabrics, leather, carpets, any kind of crumbs – they get into your cereal boxes, and bags of flour."

"Ugh. Suddenly I wish I hadn't have cornflakes for breakfast," Christine smiled wryly. She glanced at her watch, "Well…anyway…I really need to go…I have a class in two minutes," she made a face, "but thanks for the lecture, and…thanks for talking, and for the advice about the bugs," she smirked. "It's been interesting meeting you Mr Grissom."

"It was my pleasure," Gil nodded. He watched her go then glanced back to his hand to see that the beetle had escaped "Oh great…I might have just started an infestation in the lecture hall…"

That evening, he'd collected Sara from her hotel suite and escorted her to the formal dinner – which incidentally was taking place in the same hotel they were staying in. Sara looked stunning in a simple long black dress with a halter neck. She wore no jewellery, and noticing this made Gil wish he'd thought to perhaps buy her something to wear around her neck.

It seemed to be less of a dinner and more of a convention, and Gil had little interest in the events going on around him. What was concerning him at the moment was that for some reason, Sara was acting terribly cold towards him.

It had seemed to start the moment he'd come to get her at her door, she'd pretended to be congenial, but he'd been able to tell something was bothering her, she had a distracted expression on her face.

Then during drinks at the table with the same professors who'd joined them for dinner three nights running, Sara had barely said a word to him at all, even when he'd spoken to her.

_I don't get it, is this about last night? She seemed fine with it this morning at breakfast_, he thought. _What have I done_?

She sat across the table from him, sipping her second glass of wine of the evening, turned towards the front of the room where some stuffy old female professor was giving a speech on the prestige of Edinburgh University. Gil wasn't listening to a word, he was staring at Sara all the while.

Sara excused herself from the table to get herself a drink shortly after the speeches ended and the meal began. Gil watched her go, and watched her stand at the drinks table downing an entire glass of wine without even losing a drop.

_Oh god, please don't let her get drunk_, he thought.

He got up to join her but someone he'd never met before approached him to speak with him, and helplessly, he felt he could not escape. He kept glancing over the shoulder of the professor, Sara was standing by the wall, she'd gone through four glasses of wine now, Gil counted. She was speaking with Professor Tavish for several moments, then excused herself. Sara disappeared from view entirely.

Gil got cornered by three more professors, them all extremely fascinated about his line of work, and out of respect, he simply tried to answer all their questions without showing much concern at all about anything else.

When he finally did manage to get away from everyone, he could not find Sara at all. Without excusing himself to anyone, he left the formal dining hall, and he headed up towards Sara's suite, hoping to god this was where she'd be.

She'd left the door wide open, and Gil was mortified to think she could have done this so carelessly – any man could have walked in and taken advantage. He stepped in quietly, shut the door behind her, and found her by a small mini bar.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he watched her down a miniature bottle of Peach Schnapps.

"Drinking," Sara answered wearily, "do you want something?"

"Yeah…an explanation," Gil stepped over. She was sitting on the floor, two empty bottles from other miniatures in her lap. "I don't get this drinking thing, Sara…" he admitted.

"You wouldn't," Sara uttered, she stood up, the glass bottles landing softly on the floor, one on top of the other with a little clink. She kicked her heels off and padded barefoot over to the window, she looked outside.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked.

"Tell me something, Grissom," Sara said, and Gil realised she must have been angry right then if she was using his last name as opposed to his first, "why is it that you find flirting with a girl half my age when you can't even emote to me?"

Gil stood frozen, completely confused, "I don't understand…"

"The blonde, in the lecture hall. You were flirting, and don't tell me you weren't."

"I…uh…" he gaped at her, "I what?"

"You were flirting…jesus, you had that goofy smile you had on your face the entire time – the same smile you always got whenever Terri Miller came to CSI."

"You saw that?" Gil blinked.

"I came in to grab my notes which I'd dropped – I saw," Sara said.

"I wasn't flirting." Gil protested.

"Oh? Then what other reason did you have for touching her breast, mild curiosity?" she gestured towards him angrily, she had another miniature bottle in her hand, this time it was whiskey.

"Sara, are you insane? I picked a carpet beetle off of her shirt," Gil frowned, he snatched the bottle from her hand, "and you have had way too much to drink as it is."

"Oh sure, carpet beetle, right, I'll believe that," she rolled her eyes, she stumbled just a little, and then she sank onto the couch.

Gil stood, confounded how to deal with this. He could understand how it might have looked like flirting, it might have even looked suspicious, certainly, but she was drunk, and it seemed that the drunker she'd let herself get, the less irrational she had become. What might have looked normal that morning would suddenly look so completely dubious after a few too many drinks.

"Look this is all just a little misunderstanding…" Gil wasn't sure why he asked what he did next, "don't you trust me?"

"I don't know," Sara responded with a slight slur, "should I?"

Gil moved over to sit beside her, "Sara…I think there's more going on here than this thing between you and me…" he put his hand on her bare arm, her skin was cold, he could feel the bumps of gooseflesh under his fingers.

He wasn't sure when he'd realised this, but somewhere between his standing there watching her stumble to the couch, and his sitting down, it seemed to come into light that there had to be more to her drinking than what he was putting her through. Whatever was eating at her couldn't just be his fault.

_What have you done to drive her to drink_? Gil thought at himself. _You made her wait 5 years before even kissing her, you won't make love with her, you won't speak about the future. Could this really depress her so much it makes her want to drink herself into such a stupor_?

Sara pulled her arm out from under his hand, she turned away, "leave it."

"No…I can't, Sara. Every time I see you with a drink in your hand I feel cold inside, it pains me…it terrifies me, to be honest…" he swallowed nervously.

Sara got up, "get out."

"You have a problem, Sara…"

"I don't want to talk about this right now. Get out!" she gestured to the door, she stumbled a little, and barely caught herself steady by putting her hand on the nearby table.

Gil stood slowly, "Is that really what you want?" he asked.

Sara's eyes were glistening, Gil saw a pain behind her eyes he'd never seen before, and seeing it made his heart feel as if it were being wrenched right out of his chest.

Sara's words were full of emotion as she drunkenly admitted what she did next, "All I want is to be loved."

* * *

Yeah, some people will scream it's OOC, I guess. I dunno, it felt write in putting this part in though. And I left it on a cliffhanger, mwahahahahaha. Who KNOWS what's gonna happen next! LOL.

I'll add in the names of the 3 line or more reviewers in Chapter 36.

Thanks to everyone who still keeps reviewing. They're the highlight of my day.

SS


	36. Chapter 36: Selfish

**Chapter 36**

**Selfish**

* * *

Gil stood by the phone in his room, the receiver in his hand at the ready, he felt nervous tension building up in every limb until his body felt as if it might seize up at any moment. He had an operator ring out to Catherine Willow's cellular phone and he'd been waiting for five minutes now for an answer, anxious as hell.

"Willows," Came a disgruntled response.

"It's Grissom," Gil responded quickly, "did I wake you?"

"No, I was driving to work – I had to find somewhere to pull over, what's up?" Catherine asked.

"I have a problem…" Gil said, he tried to swallow back his emotion as best he could. It felt too close to even let Catherine hear how upset he was.

"I'll say. This call will be costing you more than you can probably afford," Catherine mused.

"I'm serious," Gil sighed.

Catherine paused, "Grissom…you sound weird…what's wrong?"

He winced at how perceptive Catherine could even be on the phone, "it's Sara…and me…we've had a huge argument, I don't know what to do…"

"About?" Catherine asked.

"I know you're going to think I'm crazy…but…she has a drinking problem…and there's something else going on, I can't put my finger on what it is though…"

"What was the argument about?"

"She thought I was flirting with a student after the lecture," Gil answered, "to be honest though, I wasn't…truly wasn't. Then Sara starts throwing the liquor back like it's water…drinking like a fish."

"I've seen her do that, it's impressive," Catherine admitted.

"Anyway, so we were in her suite and I tried to find out what was bothering her. I don't think my flirting with the student – which I wasn't – is what the real problem is. She won't tell me. She asked me to leave. I said 'is that what you really want' or something like that, and she said 'all I want is to be loved'."

"So what did you do?" Catherine asked.

"I left."

"You LEFT?" Catherine demanded.

"She told me to leave," Gil reminded.

"So you left. Jesus, Grissom, are you that stupid. The woman says all she wants is to be loved and instead of taking her in your arms and saying 'baby, I love you', you walk out on her. If she ever talks to you again I'll be surprised," Catherine chided, "do you know how it feels to have someone abandon you at a moment like that? Wait…what am I saying, you're Grissom, you probably don't have a clue…" she said. "You're in deep shit. You've messed up."

Gil sighed, he sat down on the bed, phone in hand, "so…what should I do?"

"That depends. What do you feel?" Catherine queried.

"I don't know what I feel. She's been talking about wanting to take things to the next level, wanting to think about the future, and now she wants to be loved…" he sighed. He rubbed his forehead, the beginning of a headache making itself known.

"You're scared of commitment," Catherine decided.

"I'm not scared of commitment," Gil retorted quickly, "I just think it wouldn't be wise to rush into this."

"Grissom, trust me, I've met SO many men who get even slightly squeamish at the mention of commitment and future. I can smell commitment-phobia a mile off. You're definitely a commitment-phobic."

"Look, having Sara in my life is hard, I've had to change everything, okay. I'm not ready to have her clothes in a drawer in my bedroom, or having the scent of her shampoo in my bathroom just yet. I'm just starting to get used to being with her – I'm not ready for the next step."

"And if you don't take the next step you chance losing her, Grissom."

Gil felt a strange stab of fear rush through his gut, "are you serious?"

"Yes," Catherine said, "Grissom, how long as she had this thing for you?"

"A long time, probably longer than I can even think of," Gil confessed.

"Have you any idea how completely frustrating it can be to love someone when that person keeps their distance from you?" Catherine asked.

"I…uh…" he faltered, "Well…no. I do know how frustrating it is to have someone in front of you that you care for and not being able to do anything about it though – and that's how I feel Cath. I feel so damn helpless. Sometimes, when she's not pushing me to go further, I feel ready to try and go a little further, but when she does, I feel like withdrawing. I don't know how to explain it," He rambled, "Cath…what should I do?"

"Do you love her?" Catherine asked softly.

"I…uh…"

"Stop pussyfooting around with the answer and just say it, do you love her?"

Gil swallowed his nervousness back, "yes."

"Okay, if you can admit it to me, then you can admit it to her. Be poetic, if you can't say the three words, at least say something that indicates you do…just…let her know…otherwise you will lose her," Catherine said, she was beginning to sound as frustrated as Gil felt.

"Okay…" Gil said sighing again, his chest tightened as he did so.

"And stop thinking about yourself. You're not the only one involved. If you really do love her, you won't put yourself first. So what if you're not ready to have her clothes in your drawer in your room, so what if you don't want the smell of her shampoo in your bathroom. Stop being so damn selfish."

"Okay…" Gil stood, "I'll go see her right now."

"Who's my secret admirer?" Catherine demanded quickly.

"Later, Cath," Gil responded, and hung up quickly.

He sucked in a breath and headed up towards Sara's hotel suite. Barely twenty minutes had passed since he'd left her, he felt that she'd still be up. He knocked twice, but received no answer at the door, and on the third knock, she finally answered. She'd changed into jeans and a sweater, her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her eyes were red and puffy almost as if she'd been crying, but he saw no signs of tears.

Sara pursed her lips together tight to see him, her expression dark.

"I need to speak with you…" Gil admitted.

"Make it quick," Sara uttered, she opened the door and let him, she headed off to the bedroom, Gil followed her quickly.

She had a suitcase on the bed, and she moved over the dresser, took her clothes out of the top drawer and dropped them into the suitcase.

"What's going on?" Gil asked, watching her, he felt the tiny prickles of panic flowing through him.

"I'm leaving," Sara said, "I'm leaving here, I'm going back to Vegas. I'm going to quit my job and I'm going back to San Franciso."

"No…don't…" Gil moved over, "please…"

"This isn't working!" Sara said. She'd sobered up quickly but Gil could still see the strange vacancy and haunted expression in her eyes that she'd had only twenty minutes ago.

"I know…and it's my fault…it's my fault…" Gil sighed, "I'm going to fix it."

"You've been making those kinds of promises ever since we got together, Gil. I'm sick of hearing them. Life was a lot simpler when I was just in love with you and you were pretending to not know it. I still hurt but at least it seemed a lot more stable."

Gil stopped her from fumbling with her suitcase, he took her by the wrists and turned her to him, "Sara…you need to listen to me…"

Sara looked away from him, "fine. I'm listening."

"I know I'm giving you a lot of grief. Believe me, I'm trying to be everything you want me to be, it's not that easy…and I know I shouldn't have walked out after what you said you wanted…"

Sara's eyes – which were staring so deeply into space – glazed over, glistening as if threatening to spill with fresh tears. He'd seen her cry before, and it always seemed to burn away a part of his soul every time she did.

"Don't you think I want to be able to say that to you? I can't tell you how many times this week alone that the thought has raced through my head – I can't tell you how many perfect opportunities I've missed. We were standing in the snow the first night being here, and I thought, 'God, if there was ever a right time, it's now'…and you know what? I couldn't do it."

Sara pursed her lips together again as if she were biting down the temptation to say something that might be uncalled for.

"Just because I'm not good at this emoting thing, and just because I can't say how I feel as easily as you can doesn't mean I don't feel it, or don't want to…" he said tenderly, he let his hands loosen on his wrists and slid them down so they caught her hands, "this is such a struggle with me. Whenever I'm with you it's always a struggle for me, and you know that. Don't you think I wish I were as smooth was Warrick and could just breeze through this whole relationship so nonchalantly?"

Sara finally put her eyes on him, her expression still dark and somber, her eyes glittering with tears what would fall any moment now.

"What you're doing now…this drinking…this…anger…it's scaring me, Sara. I'm not scared for me, I'm scared for you. If I'm totally to blame for it then…I can try as best to try and repair some of the damage I've done. But if it's not all my fault…then you need to tell me so I can try and help you get through it as best I can…"

Sara pulled her hands away, she sniffed, blinking back the tears, she looked away from him again, her lips trembling. "It's not all you."

"Then what is it?" Gil asked slowly.

Sara shook her head, indicating she really wasn't ready to say at the moment.

"Don't you trust me?" he asked.

Sara sat down slowly on the bed, she put her hands to her face, the first sob didn't come for some moments yet, but every sob that came there after was more heartwrenching than the first. Gil sat beside her slowly, he slid his arm around her and pulled her to him fiercely, her sobs stifled on his chest.

He stroked her hair and rocked her slightly in his arms, and prepared himself to wait out her crying. Once the tears dried out, there would be a lot to talk about.

* * *

Thanks to everyone for reviewing...thanks to the following for reviewing with more than 3 lines:

MissAmanda, Kristy87, jtbwriter, jbr12376, Piper135. :)

Reviews make my day!

PS. I wrote this chapter just after I uploaded chapter 35 (that shows how fast I write lol).

SS


	37. Chapter 37: Waking

**Chapter 37**

**Waking**

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A shaft of bright morning light hit Gil's eyes as he opened them late that next morning. He shut them quickly trying to dull the pain that burned his eyes. The warm fuzzy threads of sleep began to quickly snap away, and an ache from having slept in the same position too long brought him back to the harsh reality of wakefulness.

He felt a warm heavy weight across him, and he blinked his eyes open tentatively, trying to focus on Sara draped over him.

A strange panic ensued, and for one terrible moment he almost assumed that perhaps this waking up together like this was the following of a night of lovemaking. He looked down quickly just to make sure they were both still dressed, and he was relieved to find they were.

He scanned his mind for answers as to why they were both on the bed in one of the rooms of Sara's hotel suite, and it took him a moment to remember the events of the night before. Sara had cried herself to sleep, and he hadn't wanted to leave her there so he'd sat back on the bed with her in his arms, and waited for her to wake – unknowingly falling asleep himself in the process.

The dull throb in his back again reminded him he needed to move. He was torn between wanting to move and stretch, and being content lying there with Sara Sidle in his arms.

He slightly shifted his position as much as he could to lightly alleviate the pain, trying desperately not to disturb her, but he was unsuccessful. He felt her stir, he heard her give a little tired groan, and eventually she spoke.

"Wh' t'me 'sit?" came her sleepy mumble.

"Hmm?" Gil asked, her voice was muffled against his chest.

Sara raised her head a little, her eyes blinking blearily open, "what time is it?" she asked. Her face was pale, her eyes dark underneath, she was frowning as if she were finding it hard to focus on Gil's face.

Gil raised his arm to look at his wristwatch, "ten-thirty am," he answered.

Sara groaned again and let her head back down heavily on his chest.

Gil wanted to ask if she was alright, but he was afraid his question at this stage perhaps might seem patronizing, and so he remained still, he put his arm down again, his hand landing on her shoulder. He finally found something to say. "What a night, huh?"

Sara sighed, she moved as near as she could to him so that no space remained between them, "I don't want to talk about it," she said softly.

"Okay…that's…fine," he managed, now at a loss. He didn't know what else there was to talk about. "Do you feel hungover or anything?"

"No more than usual," Sara mumbled, she toyed absently with a loose thread on the third button down of his shirt.

"Want me to get you some aspirin or something?"

"No…" Sara responded.

"You'd rather stay in pain?" Gil asked.

"I'd rather stay like this," Sara responded, she closed her eyes. "I'll be fine."

"Okay," he nodded, understanding that she was rather enjoying being this close for the moment being, and to be honest, he was rather growing used to it himself.

Tenderly, he raised his hand to her hair and began stroking it away from her face, he let his fingertips brush her temple. He looked up to the ceiling and spent some moments pondering and relishing in the moment of being this close to her.

"We can't spend the whole day in bed," Gil admitted, he shifted his position again, trying to alleviate more of the aching that had come from being still too long.

"Why not?"

"We have two days left, do you really want to spend them lying in bed?"

Sara remained silent for a moment or two, then said "sounds like a plan to me."

Gil sighed and squirmed again trying to get comfortable.

"Will you stop fidgeting!" she grumbled.

"Sorry, I've had you lying across me all night, I've kind of been pinned in this position – I'm not comfortable and it's making my back hurt."

Sara sighed and sat up, "fine," she remarked in defeat. She pushed her hair away from her face. "I'm going to take a shower," she slid to the edge of the bed, stretched and rolled her head back a little. She rubbed the back of her neck and yawned.

Gil sat up, he heard the unsettling cracking of a few bones as he did so, "wait," he pleaded softly, he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "I think we need to talk."

Sara gave yet another sigh. Gil felt her body slacken in his arms as if his words drained her of any energy she'd had to hold herself upright.

"I meant what I said last night…"

"That I have a problem?" Sara asked, she feigned being more preoccupied with the condition of her fingernails rather than what he was saying.

He realised this might be a good opportunity to find out what was bothering her now that she'd brought it up. At the same time however, he understood that it seemed unfair to pressure her when she was hung over, moody, and after the night before, emotionally drained. Besides, she'd gotten past the first step. She'd already admitted she had a problem – by confirming the problem wasn't all his fault. However, he was bitterly reminded that in her statement, there was an underlying blame that he was part of it.

"No…that…I have the feelings you want me to feel for you," he tiptoed lightly with the words, trying to avoid the word 'love' altogether.

Sara turned her head slightly to look at him out of the corners of her eyes.

"It's funny…I'm so good with words, but when I'm with you…they just escape me…it's hard saying how I feel…" Gil admitted after a moment.

Sara turned slightly in his arms, she was looking at him or almost rather through him as if she were trying to see into his head.

"I want to make you happy. I know I'm failing so far, but I will make it up to you," he promised.

"There you go again," Sara shook her head and turned away, "making all these promises you'll never keep. You're beginning to sound like every other guy I've ever dated. The only difference is you just happen to be my boss."

"I keep my promises," Gil tightened his arms around her to hold her closer, "like today. We're both free, we're going to go sightseeing, and then tonight we'll go out together for dinner, just us. No professors, no work involved at all. Just us."

Sara remained silent and still in his arms.

Gil kissed her hair softly, "I'll buy you one of those ugly plaid hats with the hair attached…" he offered.

He felt Sara's body quiver as she laughed very slightly under her breath.

"Just as long as we can somehow avoid bagpipes," he added with a smirk.

Sara audibly laughed and Gil felt his heart lift to hear it.

"I love—" Gil blurted, and then caught himself. He quickly strung together words to end the sentence, "—it when you laugh."

Sara spun and looked at him, she'd noticed the pause in the middle of his sentence. However, she said nothing, "I'll go get showered and changed then," she shrugged.

Gil pecked her lips quickly, "I'll come get you in half an hour."

Sara pecked his lips back, "you sure you want to avoid bagpipes?" she asked, there was something almost very honey coated and seductive about the way she said it.

Gil laughed, he kissed her again, "I'm sure," he took his arms away from her.

When he'd left the suite, he stood in the hall for a moment, back pressed against the wall. He couldn't believe he'd almost just blurted the words out so freely, somehow, it hadn't been premeditated. As much as he was kicking himself for not having finished saying it properly, he was also angry that it had come out without him intending to say it at all, and that scared him. What else might he say without actually meaning to? He shuddered to think.

Catherine's words from the phone call from the night before echoed through his head so clearly it seemed almost as if she were standing beside him whispering her words over and over again.

_I can smell commitment-phobia a mile off._

_You're definitely a commitment-phobic_.

* * *

Thanks to everyone for reviewing (as per usual, I'll be mentioning the 3 line reviewers on the next chapter).

To those who've been going on about my grammar, I know it's bad. How I passed English 9 years ago, I'll never know.( I couldn't go to school very often since I had the shit kicked out of me every day while I was there, so I didn't really learn much when I was young :P )

I don't have a beta-reader, because I don't like the thought of having someone sift through all my work, it seems so unfair for me to ask people to do that. And especially having someone sift through 37 chapters would be slave labour (serious slave labour). When I get some spare time, I'll edit the chapters some people have alreadypointed out errors with in reviews or random emails, but at the moment I can't really do much about the rest (or my future writing). The more I spend worrying about the grammar and how I suck at it, the more I just feel really disenchanted by writing altogether so I'm trying not to think of it too much.

SS


	38. Chapter 38: Kind Of

**Chapter 38**

**Kind Of**

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The view from the battlements of Edinburgh Castle was spectacular, allowing Sara and Gil to stare out at the city and beyond. Beyond the firth, a mist had begun to roll over the land, threatening to spill eventually over to Edinburgh. The air was damp, and chilly, and the sky was overcast promising rain.

Gil and Sara had spent the whole day sightseeing as much as they could, ending with the castle. Gil had suggested leaving the best for last.

Sara was standing at the battlements with her digital camera in hand, taking photos of the view, her hair whipping around in a cold wind, her open jacket flapping at her back.

Gil felt a strange sadness overtaking him as he watched her. She'd been fine all day, but he could still feel there was something not quite right. Something that – for all he knew – could have been going on before he even knew her. He'd practiced in his head how he might ask her, but each time he tried to get the words out he'd quickly change his mind and speak about something they'd seen on their sightseeing tour.

He moved over to stand beside Sara, and he let his arms rest on the heavy bricks of the battlement, he gazed over the city.

"It's going to rain," Sara pointed out.

"I know," Gil said, "I saw a weather report on the television in my room before we left – tomorrow is supposedly going to be fine weather. No snow, no wind, possibly just a little bit of sunshine."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Sara smirked, she put her camera down.

Gil stepped closer and snaked his arm around her shoulders and he pulled her to him in a half hug, "your head still hurt?" he asked.

"A little, but I actually think the fresh air is doing it good," she leaned into him.

"I'd advise not drinking tonight," he kissed her temple.

Sara was silent for some time, she stood holding her camera, gazing out at the view. "Gil…I like it here, but I can't wait to go home."

Gil took a deep breath, he couldn't look her in the eyes when he spoke next, "home to Vegas, or home to San Francisco?" he remembered her words as she'd said them the night before, she'd threatened to quit her job, leave Las Vegas, and move back to San Francisco. He couldn't bear the thought of it, and hoped that she had dropped the idea altogether.

Sara paused, as if trying to decide, "if I went back to San Fran, would you follow me?" she asked, there was seriousness in her voice and that very seriousness gave Gil chills from more than just the cold air.

"Yes, but I'd probably have Greg follow me, you know him and his little obsession for you…" Gil finally joked, he tried to play it off with nonchalance.

"I'm serious," Sara turned towards him, and she stood staring at him.

"I know you're serious," He sighed.

"Would you follow me?"

Gil had to stop and think about this. Before he could give her an answer, he had to ask himself the same question. If she left, could he follow her? Could he give up everything he'd ever worked for? If she left, would his life be the same if he tried to carry on? Would he feel an emptiness?

He finally spoke, "Is…this a hypothetical situation…or are you actually thinking of leaving CSI…?" he asked, he tried to hide the concern in his voice.

"I asked you first," Sara folded her arms and looked at him, waiting for his answer.

Gil stopped to think again. He tried to imagine how life could be without Sara would be. Being in a relationship with her had changed his life so much that he was no longer the workaholic he'd been before. He liked who he was now much better than he'd liked who he'd been before. Sara had changed him – he'd changed for her and now he couldn't go back. "I…uhm…" he faltered for a moment, he stared straight ahead at her, speechless.

"Just say it…"

"Yes…I'd follow," he finally managed, there was a lump in his throat.

Sara smiled at him, "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere…it's hypothetical, I just wanted to make you sweat."

"I know," he lied, he tried to smile confidently back at her, but he felt uneasy, as if for a moment their whole future had totally depended on the answering of that one question, "so…are we done here? I thought we'd go see dinner and a movie…"

"Sounds good," Sara nodded.

The movie came first, although to be honest, Gil hadn't been able to pay attention to it at all. Sara's threats to leave CSI from the night before were still whirring through his mind. How close had he come to losing her?

Suddenly the stability of the relationship wasn't so stable anymore and Gil realised that Catherine was right, things couldn't just keep going on as they were. Eventually things would have to change.

While sitting through the movie, he tried to map out the whole relationship in his head in terms of progress as if he were making a scientific analysis of what had happened so far, and what the next logical steps were.

No matter how many different ways he tried to map the relationship out, the next logical step always seemed to lead to sex. They dated for over a month, they'd kissed – and passionately on one or two occasions. The next step, logically, was making love.

He wished he could quietly slide out of the movie theatre without Sara noticing he was gone. He'd call Catherine from a payphone and beg her for advice on the subject. However, there was no point – without even calling her, he already knew what Catherine would say. There were a thousand different ways he could think of Catherine putting it bluntly across to him, but they all came to the same thing - that he should take the leap and do it.

_Would it really be such a bad idea to just be impulsive and make love to her madly like a character in a French Porn_? He wondered, he felt somewhat amused at the thought. He turned to look at Sara. The flickering of the screen lit up her face, her eyes two dark gems sparkling, her slightly apart.

Sara seemed so enthralled by the movie, she did not feel his stare weighing heavy on her, she simply remained still, staring forward at the screen. She lifted her diet coke to take a quick sip, never taking her eyes from the screen for even a second. Gil watched her, fascinated by her as she was fascinated by the movie.

_What if you do make love to her_? Gil thought. _What then? Does it mean we have to start thinking about step four, making some kind of commitment right away_?

He knew he was jumping the gun. One step hadn't been taken and already the thought of the step that would follow already concerned him. And yet, he found himself strangely enchanted by the thought of it. He'd avoided thinking about it up until now – to a certain extent. He'd always thought the part of him that was very much the driven hot blooded male should be suppressed during their relationship for now.

The more he thought about it though, the more he realised that there had been instances where he'd accidentally let it loose. The kiss in the car, the passionate kiss in Sara's apartment after Catherine had told him to 'be a man'. Every time he'd felt challenged, that part of him took over, it gave him the courage to push himself a little further, gave him courage to do what he wanted.

And now he found himself wondering how things might turn out should he 'accidentally' let that part of his mind run amok. If he could just find a way of feeling challenged enough so that he was pushed into feeling bold enough, then making love might be easy.

_Why are you sitting here trying to make sense of it, trying to plan out this when you should just be spontaneous and carefree instead of worried, and anxious_? He frowned at himself and faced the screen again. _And why are you spending time worrying when you're supposed to be enjoying a movie with Sara_? He asked himself.

But he wasn't enjoying the movie. His thoughts kept shifting towards sex, and he found it harder and harder to focus. The movie seemed to morph into nothing more than blobs of colour and meaningless voices with their words he didn't hear.

He stared into space, his mind still in the same place it had been before, only now, the thoughts were stronger, more persistent. He began to ask himself more questions, questions that he hadn't thought to ask himself before. Questions such as how he thought the first time with Sara might be, would he be good enough, would he be a disappointment. When would it take place, and where? Even absurd questions such as how long would it take, and what would he do once they were there in bed?

Gil tried to shake all this from his mind. When the movie ended, he was grateful.

As they were leaving, he held Sara's hand, Sara walked with her large diet coke still in hand, sipping every now and then as they walked down the streets. The pavements were sleek from an earlier rain, so that the orange glow of the streetlamps reflected on them.

"What'd you think of the movie?" Sara asked.

"It was fine," Gil answered. To be honest, he couldn't even remember what the title of the movie was or who'd been in it. He couldn't remember what it was about either.

"You weren't paying attention," Sara said, she sipped her coke as she waited for his response.

"I was, I was just…distracted, I didn't have my glasses on and I was finding it hard to focus on the screen," he shrugged.

Sara merely looked at him, her expression spoke of how much she believed him – very little. "You're hyperopic," she raised an eyebrow, "farsighted, not nearsighted. You don't need your glasses to see that far ahead."

Gil winced, she'd caught him, "oh yeah…forgot."

"What is with you?" Sara laughed.

"You don't want to know, trust me," he forced a smile.

Sara rolled her eyes, "Gil Grissom, international man of mystery," she teased.

"It's only a mystery if you keep wondering about it," he pointed out. "Hangover any better?"

"A lot better," Sara nodded, "Headache and nausea, totally gone."

"That's good to know…" Gil stopped for a moment, and Sara took a step ahead without realizing he'd stopped until her hand, clasping his, caused her to be hauled to a stop too.

"What?" She asked, confused.

Gil wasn't sure why he'd stopped at first, but then everything he'd been thinking about in the movie theatre came rushing back to him. "Lets skip dinner," he suggested.

"You tired?" Sara asked, still keeping a firm hold of his hand.

Gil looked past her for some moments, they both remained still, traffic on the roads whizzed past, people hurried by, oblivious to their standing in the middle of the street hand in hand. This very thing reminded him of how he and Sara seemed caught in this perpetual cycle of dating and nothing but. Everything else around them was moving, but they seemed to be staying in the same place. He had to push things forward, he had to make it so they moved with everything else.

Finally, in a very slight voice, he spoke. "Kind of…"

* * *

Does this count as an evil cliffhanger? Mwahahaha.

Thanks to the following people for reviewing: jbr12476, luckyladyinlace, Erlina Silverstra, GypsySmiles, Miss Amanda, kristy87, PhDelicious, Aidrianna, Ambient Flames, jtbwriter, ObsessedWithCSI, WingdFairy90, alias101, Gina, and Tracy

This just isn't the people who've reviewed for the last 2 chaps past 3 lines of text, actually some of them only had 2 lines, but the kind words they did review with really made my day.


	39. Chapter 39: Anxious

**Chapter 39**

**Anxious**

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Apprehension had been building ever Gil had suggested they go straight back to the hotel. Sara seemed to not know what he had somehow tried to imply. He felt it was best that way. If he lost his nerve and had to back out at the last minute she'd never know what he'd been thinking all this time. No harm done. No disappointment.

The cab got caught in late night traffic much to Gil's dismay, and every red light seemed to catch it, and all the while Gil was just wishing the trip was over. The more time went on, the more he was beginning to doubt this was a good idea at all.

When the black taxi cab finally came to a halt outside the hotel, Gil did all but cry hallelujah, and he paid with a generous tip, he got out quickly taking Sara's hand.

Sara held his hand and let him walk slightly ahead as they entered the hotel, within minutes they were in the elevator. In the steel doors of the elevator, Gil saw their distorted reflections, he could even see the look of anxiety stretched across his face. It made him look almost twice as old – or it could have just been the distorted reflection and bad lighting playing tricks with his eyes.

"Are you okay?""

"I'm fine…" Gil assured, he watched the floor numbers pass by on the panel by the doors. He sucked in a deep breath, his heart was beating at a wild pace that he thought it might burst out of his chest.

"You seem…uhm…anxious…" Sara admitted.

"Really, I'm fine," he assured he assured, his eyes never left the panel, he was pleading silently with the elevator to speed up, so that they might reach Sara's suite sooner. But as desperate and ready as he felt, the doubts still onslaught his mind.

_Am I really ready for this? Is she? What if this whole idea is one big mistake_? He wondered.

Sara tugged his arm to pull him out of his reverie, "hey, we've passed your floor…" she noted. She seemed to have realised if he were that tired, he would have indeed gone straight to his room like usual rather than see her to her door.

"I thought I'd see you to your door," He said, "this is a date, it's customary," he reminded, he smiled a little.

Sara smiled a little too, and she squeezed his hand in response.

Moments later, the elevator doors opened on the twelfth floor, where Sara's suite was located. They walked down the hall together, hand in hand, and when they finally approached the door, Sara let go of his hand to fish her cardkey out of her bag.

Gil watched her, still anxious, heart still thudding and the blood rushing south of his belt. He watched her fumble with her cardkey, pushing it into the slot several times to try and make the door open.

Gil found himself wondering if the fact the door was reluctant to unlock for them was a sign that this was a mistake, that he should change his mind now.

_Don't be stupid, it's a door. It's an electronic lock, that's all. These things malfunction all the time. It's not a sign_.

Eventually with a soft beep and the flash of a red light on the panel, the door unlocked, Sara twisted the handle, the door opened slowly.

"Well…" Sara said, she turned to Gil as she stood framed in the open doorway, "I had a great time toda—"

She never had a chance to finish her sentence, he moved quickly, pressing his lips against hers to silence her, at the same time stepping up to her so that she was forced backwards into the room, he blindly reached out behind him to swing the door shut, and he heard the click of the lock.

Sara faltered, confused at first, then tentatively wrapping her arms around his neck. She tried to speak, her words muffled by his own. Gil stumbled forward, he cracked one eye open and shifted his position slightly so he could look past her and see where the bedroom was located from where they were standing. He awkwardly guided her whilst never letting the kiss break. He hit his hip on an end table, and didn't care, he nearly tripped on the edge of a rug. Eventually, he found the doorway into the room she'd been sleeping in.

The passion burned through him, he felt a very physical ache, more physical than ever he'd felt in her presence before. But the doubts began to come again.

_Are you really going to do this? You're standing in the dark, by a bed, and you want this so bad it hurts…but are you really going to do it, or are you going to wimp out like you always do_?

Their tongues danced crazily against each others, kissing hard and deep, he put his hands behind her back to support her and began to inch her backwards towards the bed. She faltered, she seemed to want to ask what was going on but he wasn't about to let her ruin the moment with her questions. It had taken him long enough to finally get to this point.

Somehow with much coaxing she was finally down on the bed, and he was leaning over her, kneeling on the bed to support his weight. He took this moment to decide whether he wanted to go further. He already had her right where he wanted her, and he'd managed to be quite bold in getting her there. But the moment he let himself press down on her, he knew there would be no turning back for either of them.

Tentatively, distracting her with his deep intense kisses, he let his weight down on her, so that she felt him press against her. He wasn't sure if her mumble, which was stifled by his kiss, was a moan of pleasure, or an utter of protest. When he didn't feel her pushing him off, he pressed against her a little more, rolling his hips forward just to let her feel the height of his arousal.

He felt her pushing his jacket past his shoulders so that he had to shift his position and raise his arms to get it off, and it was tossed to the floor haphazardly. Gil felt her hands massage his back through the cotton of his shirt, her touch made him ache just that little more.

He one of his hands roam, deciding to begin with the less erogenous places to test the unfamiliar, in one fluid motion his hand traveled from her waist to her hip and to the bottom of her thigh, he slid his hand under her knee and raised her leg a little, it giving him a little more freedom of space to press harder against her.

By now, he was sure the noises she was making were soft whimpers of pleasure. She finally had to break the kiss to let out a full fledged moan, while he held back the need to make any kind of sound out of fear of ruining the moment. He kissed his way down her jaw to her neck, he traced slippery patterns across her flesh with his tongue, stopping every now and then to kiss and gently suck at the soft skin. With his lips he could feel her excited pulse throbbing beneath her flesh.

Sara's bare fingers slid beneath the flesh of his shirt to caress his bare back, Gil felt tingles at her touch, he arched his back in response. He shifted his position, he kissed her again, more passionately than before.

Her fingers were now fumbling with the buttons on the front of his shirt, while worked one of his own hands under the hem of her cotton top, he stroked the soft firm skin of her stomach, he heard her inhale sharply and she sucked in her stomach as if his touch had slightly tickled.

Gil suppressed the urge to laugh at this. He pulled the collar of her top to the side of her neck so he had more access to kiss further down near her shoulder, he heard her sigh softly in delight.

When she made noises like this, his mind raced with erotic imagery of how it would be to make love with her. It was becoming nearly impossible to hold back now. He felt like a hungry wild beast having stalked it's helpless prey days before the kill, he wanted to ravage her.

He moved his hand up her stomach a little more, marveling at the velvety texture of her skin. A little more desperately, he pushed his hardness against her, he heard her let out a louder moan, one that made him shudder with yearning. She shifted beneath him, rolling her hips upwards to match him.

The pleasure building from the mere pressure of their bodies pressed together at the middle was near enough to send him over the edge. All of the control he'd learned over years of lovemaking had almost now abandoned him.

He leaned up a little and tugged on her top so that it came up, she helped him remove it, and he stared down at her, her upper torso bare save her bra – the same absurdly coloured purple bra he'd seen in her apartment over a month ago. He smirked a little at this, admiring how it pushed her breasts upwards just a little, making them seem fuller and more rounded.

He kissed her collarbone, sliding himself down her body just a little, kissing down to where her cleavage began, he let his tongue caress the flesh as he worked his way back up towards her throat, worked his way along her jaw, to her chin and then finding her lips again, his hands sliding under her back to find the clasps to release her body from the undergarment. She arched her back to give him more access, her shoulders supporting her weight.

A sound disrupted them both from their passion, they hadn't expected it, either of them. A loud ringing, a bell. An obnoxious incessant ringing that wasn't letting up. It was almost so deafening that Gil did not hear what Sara said when he leaned up in confusion. He was able to read her lips enough to make out what she'd said.

Sara pulled herself up, struggling from beneath him, she climbed off of the bed, "It's the fire alarm!"

Gil groaned, "now?" he demanded in disbelief.

Sara smoothed down her shirt quickly, "we need to exit the building!" she said loudly over the sounds of the bell, she grabbed his jacket from the floor and tossed it towards him, she headed for the door in a slow calm manner, "come on!"

Gil winced. _I don't believe this, _he thought_. This is just so typical! I get this far and the far alarm goes off before I barely get started. God has a weird sense of humour_! _If this turns out to be a fire drill, I'm seriously going to kick the ass of the guy who arranged it…_

He pulled himself up, holding his jacket in front of him. He followed Sara out of the room, cursing the day the fire alarm had ever been invented.

* * *

A bit OOC probably, I know, ah, but anyway, I know, I'll probably get flames saying this is the most evil chapter I've ever written. Gil's already to get his bagpipes played, and there goes the fire alarm, lol. Talk about bad luck!

I'll mention the 3line reviewers in the next chapter :)

SS


	40. Chapter 40: Fire

**Chapter 40**

**Fire**

* * *

Gil stared at the hotel from where he stood across the street with Sara, huddled under the awning of a shop to stay dry from a torrential rain that had begun to pour. He and Sara weren't the only ones struggling to keep dry from the rain. Many of the hotel guests who'd been evacuated from the building when the alarm had gone off were also there, muttering under their breaths and shivering in the cold.

There were flames teeming out of a window of the hotel on the fifth floor, the flames licking up the wall, blackening the bricks. Smoke billowed upwards. The police were there, they'd cautioned off the area with tape while Edinburgh's fire department tried to deal with the problem of the fire itself. Gil wondered if the fire would ever be under control, and if so, would they ever be allowed back in the building.

Sara rest her head on his shoulder wearily, she gave a sigh.

"Some night, huh?" Gil asked, he slipped his arms around her to keep her warm from the night chill. He held her close to him, rubbing her back.

"Every night since we've been here has been some night," Sara remarked, she slid her arms through the front opening of his jacket and around his waist, her hands were freezing.

Gil tried as much as he could to wrap the edges of the jacket he was already wearing around her shoulders to try and warm her, "We've had a little bout of bad luck, that's all."  
"Bad luck? We're practically cursed," Sara sighed, "I don't know if it's just us or this city that's the problem."

"It's not us, it's me," Gil answered, "I'm the problem," he admitted.

Sara fell silent after this, she held onto him, staring across at the hotel, her eyes catching flickers of the firelight.

Gil kissed her hair tenderly, "do you want to go home?"

"Hmm?" Sara raised her head to look at him.

"We can leave…right now…"

"What about our stuff…and what about the flight we're booked out on – isn't it scheduled for the day after tomorrow?"

"We can leave our stuff and have it sent back for us…and I'll pay to get us a flight out of here if you want to leave. We'd be back in Vegas by tomorrow."

Sara hugged him tightly, "What about our last day together sightseeing and being together?"

"We'll be together in Vegas. We're not scheduled back at work until Monday," he shrugged, "But it's up to you…if you want to leave right now…we can."

"Yes…I want to go home," Sara murmured, she pecked his lips, thoughtfully she added, "to Vegas."

Gil wished he hadn't thought of offering to take her home there and then at all. From the moment he'd said it, he'd known it was a mistake, that it would be an exhausting rollercoaster ride of making arrangements.

He'd spent almost three hours at the airport trying to plan out how they would arrive back in Vegas. Eventually, they'd managed to get a plane out to London, from London, the nearest flight they could get was a flight to New York, and from there they could get a flight to Vegas. The whole ordeal had been excruciating and tiring. They had not been able to sleep much on the plane, barely more than three hours out of the two trips. And the moment they'd arrived in New York, Gil had spent an hour on the phone trying to get through to the hotel in Edinburgh to arrange to have their luggage returned. He was rather worried about his laptop – which was property of the lab. The cost wasn't what bothered him, it was the delicate information that one might find on it if they knew to look in the right places.

The moment they arrived in New York, both irritable and tired, Gil made his way to the nearest payphone to call Catherine at his office. He wasn't sure why but something was nagging at him to call and find out how things were at work.

He was fighting with a headache as he dialed his office number. He'd been listening to irate customers and screaming children on the last two planes, and lack of sleep had begun to take it's toll on his body, he felt himself winding down like a clock.

"Grissom's office, Catherine Willows speaking," Catherine soon responded, Gil could hear the frustration in her voice, and could relate with it at once. It was how he was feeling at the moment.

"It's me," he said hoarsely, jetlag not only having left him cranky and exhausted, but also with a sore throat

"My secret admirer?" Catherine asked, it became apparent at once he sounded so unlike himself that even Catherine hadn't recognized his voice.

"Grissom," he sighed.

"You sound like you've swallowed a frog," Catherine mused.

"I've spent the last eighteen hours in and out of airports and planes," he responded, "You'd sound like you'd followed a frog, too," he growled.

"In and out of airports and planes?" Catherine asked, "where are you now?" she asked quickly.

"New York," Gil sighed.

"Cutting the trip short?" Catherine asked. He could hear her shuffling paperwork and by the sounds of it, there was a lot of it on the desk. He winced thinking of how much he'd have to catch up with when he got back to work on Monday.

"Long story," Gil croaked. "Gist of it is, our hotel caught on fire. Me and Sara didn't feel like standing around all night in the pouring rain, we decided to catch the next flight out. Here we are in New York. We have an hour before we can catch our plane to Vegas."

"So when are you coming back to CSI?" she asked, something in her tone told him that she was more than eager to see him back at work.

"I don't know," he said, "I'm not scheduled to be back until Monday."

"Grissom…uhm…is there anyway you can maybe push that forward, just a little?" Catherine asked, he heard more shuffling of papers, he heard someone talking in the background, it sounded like Greg.

"What's going on?" Gil asked, he cleared his throat a little.

"I didn't want to say anything when you called the other night – you were kind of on Vacation time and I didn't want to worry you, but…since you're on your way back and all…" she trailed off.

"Cath?" he asked concernedly.

"We're swamped – seriously swamped. Even you would be freaking out right now. Nick got food poisoning, we had to send him home, he's been sick for two days. We're so understaffed right now, and the caseload keeps growing. The lab is backed up – Greg is hyperventilating, he nearly passed out the workload is so bad. Ecklie is on our backs every minute. He won't give us any workers because day shift is as swamped as we are. Your desk is overflowing with paperwork. Warrick and I are struggling to try keep on top of things here, we barely finish one case and three more come up…" she somehow managed to say all this without even stopping for breath, her voice was getting higher and her speech getting faster as she continued. "We've pulled in all the overtime we can and still can't catch up! I haven't seen my daughter in two days, I haven't slept in twenty-four hours, I'm having the worst period of my life and I don't even have time to buy tampons and the dispenser in the ladies restroom is all out!" she bluntly outburst, she sounded as if she were close to breaking point

Gil uttered an obscenity under his breath he normally wouldn't say at all, if he weren't so irritable, perhaps he might have found a nicer way to respond without using it at all.

"Excuse me, did I just hear you say the 'F' word?" Catherine asked, she sounded astounded.

"I'll be there when I can," was all Gil managed, he didn't feel humbled enough to say goodbye to her, he simply hung up the phone, he let his head rest against the cool metal of the payphone box for a moment, sighing at the momentary relief it brought to his headache.

Sara had gone to the airport restaurant to get some coffee, Gil found her at a table, sipping strong black coffee, in an attempt to make herself more alert with a caffeine rush. She was pale and her eyes were puffy with fatigue, her skin was coming up in blotches from lack of sleep. Gil felt terribly guilty he'd put her through all this.

"I got you coffee," Sara gestured to another cup on the table.

Gil sat down slowly, "I got through to Cath…" he raised the cup to his lips and sipped the coffee.

"And?" Sara asked, she raised her eyes from her cup to stare over at him.

"CSI is swamped with work…Nick is off sick with food poisoning, Greg is taking panic attacks because the lab is backed up, Ecklie is on everyone's backs, Cath is drowning in my paperwork, and apparently having the worst period of her life without having the time to buy tampons – and according to her the dispenser in the ladies room is all out."

Sara groaned, "so…we have to go to work?"

"It'd be advisable. Cath sounded more than stressed out – which indicates how bad it is. Catherine is more than capable of running CSI. If she's this upset, then everything is in chaos."

Sara sighed.

"I'm still the boss…I have to take care of my responsibility…" he rubbed his head, frowning at the pain. "If we wait 'til Monday, this backlog of work will come back and bite us in the ass."

"Fine," Sara finally agreed, she sipped her coffee,

"I'd advise to get what little sleep you can on the plane…" Gil sipped his own coffee, the hot liquid did nothing to soothe his sore throat.

Sara folded her arms, "see. I told you. We're cursed."

"I didn't doubt it for a second."

* * *

Thanks to the following people for reviewing:

Ambient Flames, Aidrianna, PhDelicious, and djkittycat for reviewing on chapters 38 and 39.

Hasn't been many reviews yet, but I have put up 3 chapters in less than 24 hours so I'm still hoping to see a few more lol.


	41. Chapter 41: Chaos

**Chapter 41**

**Chaos**

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****

Stepping through the doors of CSI was like coming home for Gil. The same harsh lighting, the same sounds of life as it bustled all around him. It was comforting, coming back to it after having been away for it from almost a week.

Sara yawned, "it's good to be back," she said, she sounded unenthusiastic in her exhaustion. She stumbled tiredly behind Gil in the hall.

"I'm gonna go find Cath and find out what's on top priority right now," Gil stated, "you go take a cold shower, wash the sweat off—"

Sara blinked, she stopped in mid-step,"Are you saying I stink?" she asked, sounding somewhat slightly offended.

"Sara…We've both been over twenty-four hours without a shower in warm airport conditions, without a deodorant in sight – we both stink," he stifled a yawn, "a shower will waken you up. When you're done, come back to my office – by then I'll have figured out roughly what needs to be done right now and where you need to be."

"Okay," Sara nodded. "Wow." She said with a sigh, "trip is finally over…"

"Yeah…it is…" he noticed small fluffy feather clinging to the shoulder of her top, he reached over and picked it off with an absent tenderness. As much as the threat of backlog of work was looming over him, he didn't want to walk away from her at that moment. The trip wasn't the only thing that felt like it was over, he was very aware that for the next few days, all their time would need to be exclusively concentrated on work.

"Thanks for havin' me along," Sara smirked, she turned to head towards the locker room where she could make use of the private shower. "I'll catch you later."

Gil watched her disappear down the hall, his mind shifted back to thoughts of being on the bed, of that absurd purple bra of hers, of how the top of her breasts had swelled out of it, how her flesh felt against his fingers, his lips, and his tongue.

_No, no, no. Remember the deal. Work is for work, when you're at work you think only about work. We really have to focus. The lab is in a bind, I need to concentrate on only work. There's plenty time later to think about the purple bra_, he chided himself.

As he passed by the lab he glanced through the windows to see a rather weary looking Greg Sanders, working with an intense nervous tension. Greg raised his head to see him, his face lighting up as if Gil had been his hero who'd come to save the day. Gil gave a slight wave, and kept on walking.

As he stepped up to his office, he found the door wide open. He stared past the threshold to see Catherine Willows sitting behind his desk. Both her cellular phone, and the office phone were ringing persistently, she was frantically searching through a pile of folders on the desk for a case file. There was a cigarette smoldering in an ashtray and she picked it up to take a quick and rather frenzied drag before stubbing it out.

Gil took this one quick moment to examine how much paperwork had piled up, his in tray was stacked, his out tray barely had two sheets of paper in it.

"Fear not," Gil spoke up finally, "for the reinforcements have finally arrived," he smirked.

Catherine raised her head, her own face lit up just as Greg's had moments earlier, "oh my god, you're finally here," she looked as if she might be close to tears, Her hair was pulled back tight from her face in a ponytail that made her features seem sharper, making her face seem as if it might have aged ten years within the passage of six days.

Catherine rushed up from the desk to hug him, he was overwhelmed by this, but realised it spoke of just how glad she was to see him right at this moment, "where's Sara?"

"She went to take a shower to try and wake herself up before starting work," Gil said, he held up a plastic bag, "this are for you."

Catherine moved back, took the bag, opened it and gazed in, "tampons!"

"Sssh," he put his finger to his lips, motioning for her to be quiet, "lets not have people assuming I shop for your personal items. I sent Sara for them," he added.

"You're a life saver," Catherine said gratefully.

Gil moved behind his desk, "Cath, you are aware this is a non-smoking building," he pointed to the ashtray.

"Yeah, if you'd been here for the past six days dealing with this shit you'd be smoking too – at least forty a day. When all this is over I'm going to have to break out the Nicotine Gum again," she sighed.

"Okay, so tell me…where are we at?"

It was almost the end of the shift, and things weren't completely under control – no where near under control at all. But everything immediate and prioritized had been dealt with accordingly. Catherine was beginning to slowly calm down, and Gil somehow managed to clear some of his paperwork, still managing to go out on the field to investigate a crime scene on his own. Sara was in one of the interview rooms with a suspect, Warrick was examining evidence, and Greg was still snowed under with DNA samples in the lab.

Gil hadn't had the chance to enter the lab all night, fifteen minutes before the shift was due to end, he slipped in quietly, the Lab was deathly silent save the soft humming of the computer. Greg turned to see him, "hey," he said.

"Still backed up?" Gil asked, he noted the workload. A pile of envelopes and packets in a tray by Greg's side.

"I'm coping," he assured.

"Cath told me you were getting pretty stressed out," Gil confessed.

"I'm fine. So how was Scotland? Can't have been great if you came back so early…" Greg was swabbing the inside of a used condom.

"It was great, but the hotel caught on fire," Gil responded, he moved to the long tray of packets and envelopes of DNA samples from various cases. Everything was out of order, it was no wonder Greg was going out of his mind.

"Shouldn't let Sara play with matches," Greg joked, he used his wrist to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Hey…"

Gil and Greg both turned to see Sara enter, she looked exhausted, her eyelids drooping slightly.

"Hey," Gil said, just the image of her there brought back visions of seeing her on the bed again, he tried to force the images away and focus on work, "everything okay?"

"I just wrapped up a case," Sara moved over, "I know there's fifteen minutes left to the shift, but…I'm so tired, I don't think I can do anything else," she explained.

She did look tired – to the point of perhaps collapsing. Gil felt the concern for her, "You should knock off early. Fifteen minutes is fine…"

"Can I knock off early too?" Greg asked hopefully.

"This needs done immediately," Gil said, he held up a packet, "it was mixed in with the non priority stuff," he pointed out. "Get this done, and then you can go."

"Yes!" Greg lit up once again, "will do."

Gil gestured towards the door to Sara, and he followed her out there, closing the door behind him, the hall was quiet as it usually was between the shift change. "How are you getting home?"

"Walking?" Sara responded, more of a question than an answer. "My car is at home," she reminded.

"Get a ride home with Greg, you're exhausted, you'll end up collapsing before you make it past the parking lot."

Sara smirked, "Okay…"

Gil stepped a little closer, he felt the irresistible urge to kiss her, to reminder how of how passionate the kisses had been over twenty-four hours ago on the bed.

"How are you getting home?"

"I'll ask Catherine for a ride…"

"Cath has had about as little sleep as you've had," Sara folded her arms.

"She's also taken caffeine pills and she's still more alert than either one of us," Gil smirked, "we'll be fine. Go wait in the locker room, I'll tell Greg I'm ordering him to chauffeur you."

And then, much to his complete astonishment, he did something he had not planned to do at all. He stepped forward, took gentle hold of her arms, and kissed her forehead tenderly. It had been something he'd been doing all week whenever he parted with her. He'd grown so accustomed to doing it, that right now, it had just happened without being deliberate.

It wasn't until after he'd done it he remembered suddenly where he was and what he'd really just done. A public display of affection in his workplace – when he was trying to keep the relationship a secret. He'd forgotten himself completely, something that he wasn't completely used to doing, and certainly not in his place of work.

Sara looked at him blankly, he could see she wanted to ask why he'd done it, but he knew if she did he would never be able to answer. "I…uh…" he turned towards the glass to see Greg on the other side inside the lab, staring at them in disbelief, mouth hanging open. It was lucky that the hall had been devoid of any other people to witness the public display of affection.

"See you tomorrow, Sara…" Gil said, and he waved her off quickly. He went back into the lab, he was ready to receive the onslaught of questions he knew Greg would have.

"Did I just see you do that or have I totally lost my mind altogether?" Greg asked blinking, he had a swab in one hand, poised as if he'd been ready to do something with it, but had left it there in the air as if he'd frozen in shock.

"You lost your mind years ago," Gil said, "I don't want Sara walking home – she hasn't slept, will you drive her?"

"You're avoiding the question," Greg retorted, "you just kissed her – out in the hallway. You never do that, not to anyone, not even to Cath, and she's like your bestest buddy…"

"I kissed her head, and it was just a friendly gesture, to say thanks for putting in the overtime on her day off."

"Should we all expect this 'friendly gesture' on the head every time we pull in overtime?" Greg asked raising an eyebrow. "Because I gotta say, as much as I like praise, your lips and my head just aren't going to be meeting anytime soon."

"Keep this up and the next time you do overtime, you shouldn't even expect to get paid," Gil warned.

Greg suppressed his smirk and lowered his head to try and hide this as best he could, "right."

"Back to my question. Will you drive Sara home?"

"Yes. As soon as I'm done," Greg assured.

"Fine. She's waiting in the locker room for you. Drive carefully, okay?" Gil sighed and left the lab.

As he made his way back to his office, he found himself reliving the moment when he'd kissed Sara's forehead right there in the hallway. He couldn't quite believe he'd done it at all. It was so careless, foolish, frightening, and most of all, completely unlike him.

_This…is the beginning of the end_, he thought.

* * *

Someone personally deemed me "Queen of updates".I think this is the 4th in 24 hours. Do I get a prize? J/K.

Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing so far, I'll be adding the list of reviewers in the next chapter (I like to keep things nice and even.)

So how about Gil, huh? I know people will say it's very OOC but I've had the same thing happen to me where I've done something completely out of my character without even realising it and then realising it minutes later and being mortified, some people might be able to relate. This was really an homage to the Friend's episode when Chandler kissed Monica in front of Phoebe and Rachel before either of their friends knew they were romantically involved. I just liked the idea of doing it without even having thought about it, hehe.

SS


	42. Chapter 42: Ridicule

**Chapter 42**

**Ridicule**

* * *

****

Gil arrived the next night an hour before the shift and covered some of the paperwork Catherine had let pile up on his desk. He was tired, irritable, and still convinced he was plagued with jetlag, his voice had become so hoarse that any time he had to make himself heard he had to first clear his throat.

It was good to be back to work in a way, he was hoping it'd help him gain some semblance of normality. He still loved his job, and being away from his desk for almost a week, he had to admit even to himself that he had even missed doing the little annoying things like paperwork. Paperwork, also helped him take his mind off of his own problems – and most importantly, took his mind off of how Sara had looked in that absurd purple bra of hers.

After dealing with some of the paperwork, he glanced at his watch. Ten minutes before the shift was due to start, yawned, stretched and leaned back in his seat. His body craved the kick of caffeine and he pulled himself up out of the chair and headed towards the break room, where everyone was congregating before the start of the shift – getting what little relaxation they could before they dealt with the chaotic day that was ahead of them. Gil noted – grateful – that Nick had returned to work. To the trained eye he looked more pale and slightly less alert than usual, and after the bout of food poisoning Catherine had advised he'd had, Gil hardly found this surprising at all.

They all raised their eyes to see him as he stepped in. He was very aware of their eyes following him as he moved over to the back of the room to pour himself a cup of fresh coffee.

Catherine got up and moved over, "Hey, I never got the chance yesterday to say for coming here last night and taking over," she said, she smiled genuinely, her eyes had that familiar sparkle in them again, a telltale sign she'd had a long rest after her shift. She touched his arm in the friendly and familiar way she probably had done so a thousand times.

"Oh come on now," Nick spoke up from where he sat, "you know how we say thanks in CSI, Cath. We don't touch arms, we kiss their heads."

Gil felt the heat rise in his cheeks, his back was turned to everyone, and he was glad of it, afraid they might see the anger in his face. He felt very much humiliated by this.

_Great. Everyone knows that I kissed Sara in the hall_, he thought in dismay. He tried desperately to calm himself, and then he turned around to see if Greg was still sitting there, he definitely had been when he'd walked in, but now there was an empty space where Greg had once sat, and he heard the footsteps of Greg running down the hall.

Sara lowered her head, she pursed her lips together tightly, she wasn't any more amused than Gil was and she was trying to hide her face with her hair, she too was bright red.

_I'm going to kill Greg_, Gil thought. _Or at least give him a bad evaluation for spending more time spreading rumours than doing any work_. _I can't believe he just immediate went off telling everyone about that! Why didn't I think to warn him last night that the kiss shouldn't be talked about with colleagues. Damn, I'm to blame for this as well as he is!_

Catherine folded her arms, "hey, we could use more of that caring attitude around here," she said, "nothing wrong with a pat on the back or a kiss on the head from your boss. It shows he cares," she pointed out.

"Do the words 'Grissom' and 'cares' actually belong in the same sentence?" Warrick joked.

"I was disorientated by jetlag, I was half asleep, suffering from a blinding headache, and all I wanted to do was say thanks to Sara – I don't get why everyone has to ridicule it," Gil tried to hide the anger in his voice. "After traveling with me all the way to the UK and back, and having to suffer work directly after touching down in Vegas, I'd say the woman deserves more than a kiss, she deserves a vacation in Hawaii."

Sara glanced through her hair at Gil, raising an eyebrow as if to question.

Gil raised his cup to take a sip of his coffee, he looked away from them all guiltily, he could feel their eyes burning into him with that suspicion once again.

"It's just not something you normally do," Nick finally said.

"Yeah, well lately I've been doing a lot of things I don't normally do," Gil uttered under his breath, he sipped his coffee again. He contemplated what he should do now.

Things had been different before. Catherine knowing about the relationship was fine, it was even convenient for when he needed advice. But everyone else knowing about this tender display of affection seemed to suggest that they also now would be suspicious something else was going on.

"Sara?" Gil asked, "you're quiet. What's on your mind."

Sara shrugged, "nothing. What can I say? They're right, I mean…it isn't something you'd normally do. Kind of struck me by surprise."

"Greg said you had this huge blank expression on your face," Warrick said to Sara.

"Wouldn't you?" Sara gave a nervous laugh, "I mean…he's Grissom, he doesn't do affection," she pointed out.

Gil gazed at her over his coffee cup_. I don't_? he asked in thought. _I have memories of an incident in a hotel suite that would beg to differ_. "Well…I'm not going to stand here and be made fun of for my lack of affection," he pretended to be aloof, "I have work to do, excuse me," he said and headed towards the door.

Warrick raised his hands, "what? No kiss? That's it, that's the last time I do overtime for you, man."

Gil didn't find the comment one bit funny, perhaps it was the sting of Sara's words. _He's Grissom, he doesn't do affection._

Gil tried to carry on as best he could throughout the day, after the assignments he dealt with some important phone calls, he tended a large bulk of the paperwork and still somehow found the time to go out to do fieldwork. In the back of his mind though, he couldn't help but think back to the conversation from before the start of shift.

The words still stung like acid on a raw wound. How could she say that? How could she be so cruel as to make a comment like that to everyone in the room?

He was trying not to analyze her words too much. He understood the reason she'd said it – to make it seem less obvious they were in a relationship together. But a small part of him wondered if she meant any of that at all, and not only that, he wondered if he could ever be affectionate enough as far as she was concerned.

He'd been half way through writing a report when his phone – which was situated on the desk – buzzed in response to an incoming phone call, it moved across the desk as if to try and escape as he reached for it. He flipped the phone open.

"It's me," came Sara's voice, she was speaking in a low whisper.

"Oh…why are you whispering?" he asked, he got up and closed his office door, which he had a habit of leaving wide open.

"I'm calling from the supply closet," Sara said, "I don't want anyone to overhear…"

"Why are you calling from the supply closet?" he asked nonchalantly, let his backside settle on the desk and folded one arm across his stomach.

"Listen…Greg is snooping, he was asking me all sorts of questions last night when he was driving me home…" Sara confessed.

"What kind of questions?" he responded.

"What we did in Edinburgh, and stuff, but some of it was very personal. He asked me if you'd been acting a little more 'friendly' than usual, and I pretended to not know what he was talking about, but I knew what he meant. And then he asked how my boyfriend was and I had to make up this pack of lies about calling him every night on the phone…" she sighed, "I think he knows…"

"Apart from the questions, what makes you think he knows?"

"Because he's talking about wanting to arrange another night out on the town, and he says I should 'bring' my boyfriend…that he'd really like to meet this guy…" she explained, "it's like he knows, and just wants to catch us out…"

"Let him try, he won't succeed. He can't prove anything is going on," Gil said. "Listen, I have a lot of work to catch up with…I really need to get back to it…"

"Okay…oh, I meant to ask…are we going to see each other after work?" Sara asked quietly.

"I want to say yes, but I'm going to have to pass. I haven't slept properly for days and it's really beginning to take its toll on me…" he admitted, plus right now he didn't think he had the energy to try and be more affectionate towards her than usual just to prove her wrong.

"Okay…that's fine," Sara said, although as fine as she said it was, she could not hide the disappointment in her voice very well.

"Besides," he sighed, "why would you want to see me after work. I don't do affection, remember?"

"Oh please don't' tell me you're mad about that?"

"Mad, no," Gil responded, "a little surprised and slightly hurt, yes."

"I was just—" Sara began, and then the call was disconnected. To Gil suggested she'd hung up because someone had caught her in there making a personal phone call, or her battery had just died.

Gil gave a dejected sigh and switched his phone off.

Why is this bothering me so much? He wondered. I know she didn't mean it, and I know she was just doing what I asked her to do – keep the relationship a secret. The whole thing is totally logical, so why should it hurt at all?

He stared into space, lost in his thoughts once again. He wondered if Sara at all compared Gil to any previous boyfriend she'd ever had. Perhaps she was measuring Gil's affection against someone she'd dated who had been more than affectionate enough to keep her happy.

Gil didn't like that thought.

_Get a grip_, _you're getting jealous and thinking of competing with a guy who probably never existed in the first place_, he told himself. He watched through the glass of his door as Sara wandered past. He swallowed back his frustration, and forced himself back into his work, hoping it might distract him from thinking anymore today at all.

* * *

Thanks to the following people for reviewing the last few chapters:

Woody27, Gina, jbr12476, luckyladyinlace, Aidrianna, Solaris-Snape, ScullyAsTrinity, Ambient Flames, jtbwriter, alias101, Erlina Silverstra, kristy87, Piper135.

I've had 200 reviews so far on for this story, it astounds me so many people have read and come back for more to review all over again, lol. Thanks so much :) It means so much to me that you review with such kind words - kind of makes my day. I know I keep saying it, but it's so very true!


	43. Chapter 43: Stoic

**Chapter 43**

**Stoic**

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****

Gil found himself buried in work for the next two days, and as he was so completely consumed in it, he found very little time to see Sara at all, and he was glad of it. Seeing her less had helped to slightly ease the sting of the words she'd used in the break room three days before.

But although the sting was eased, it didn't completely heal away. Every time he did see her, he was reminded of it. There was a general unease between the both of them whenever they were in the same room, and when Sara took her breaks with the rest of the team, Gil avoided going into the break room at all, he'd take his break when everyone else had gone back to work, he'd sit quietly doing his crossword, or sipping his coffee enjoying a moments silence from the chaos of work.

With all the hard work the team had been putting in, the workload began to slowly decrease and the pace gained some normality.

As he'd been sitting in his office, he realised he had still not found time to speak to Greg about his gossiping at work. Now that he'd cleared up a good deal of his work, and could afford to leave his desk for the time being, this would be an excellent opportunity to speak with him and try and clear a few things up.

He left his office, and traveled the hall until he came across the lab. He gazed through the windows first, as was habit when approaching. Greg and Sara were standing at one of the counters discussing something.

Gil felt his curiosity pique, and he couldn't help but go in to the lab to find out what they were talking about.

"Come on, what's the big deal. Are you ashamed of this guy or something?" Greg was saying to Sara. Both had their backs turned and had not noticed Gil enter at all.

"No, it's not that," Sara said.

"Then why can't we meet him?" Greg asked, "I mean, we're all friends here. We're all curious to see who this guy is…"

Sara folded her arms, "yeah, so you can stand and pick out his flaws."

"So…is it just he's ashamed to go out in public with you, or you're ashamed to go out in public with him?" Greg asked.

"Neither."

"Then how come none of us have met this guy?" Greg asked. "You won't even tell us his name, you won't let us meet him…if you weren't such an honest person I'd swear you were making all this up," Greg teased.

Gil cleared his throat as he approached to gain their attention, "Actually. I've met him."

Sara and Greg both turned, surprised to find him there.

"You have?" Greg asked, "Sara kept that quiet."

Sara looked away, pursing her lips together tightly.

Gil gave a nonchalant shrug, "DNA results for that sample I sent in three hours ago?" he asked. He decided to abandon his plan of reprimanding Greg for the time being – at least while Sara was around.

"Right here," Greg picked up a folder from the counter, "so when did you meet him?"

Gil opened the folder to survey the results, "Hmm?"

"Sara's boyfriend? When did you meet him?"

Gil glanced to Sara before looking back to Greg, "A while ago…I ran into him and Sara when they were out on a date," he shrugged, he tried to appear casual. "He's a an okay guy," he shrugged.

Greg looked at Gil as if he completely didn't believe this at all, "so what's he look like?" he asked.

"Uh…average looking…brown eyes…" Gil quickly said off the top of his head. He deliberately did not use his own eye colour to try and throw Greg off the scent.

"I heard they were blue," Greg turned quickly to Sara looking at her suspiciously.

Gil winced, and it only came to him then that Greg was right, Sara had told everyone she had a boyfriend with blue eyes.

"They are blue, Grissom isn't as observant as he used to be," Sara shook her head in disgrace.

"It was dark," Gil shrugged, "They could have been any colour."

"Is he tall?" Greg asked curiously, his eyes slightly squinted as he stared at Gil.

"Average for a guy," Gil shrugged. "Can you get back to work, please?"

Greg ignored the comment, "I'm guessing near enough six feet, maybe an inch or two below, probably older than Sara too, real smart…the person anyone would least expect," he rambled.

_This guy knows too much and I gotta get out of here_, Gil thought."Uh…" he looked at his watch "I have some work to be getting back to. And so do you two," he pointed to Sara and Greg.

Greg shrugged and went back to work immediately. Sara followed Gil out into the hall, she was carrying a sheet of paper she'd received from the DNA lab.

"Hey, I haven't seen you much lately," Sara said.

"Life is hectic, work has been hectic," Gil reminded.

Sara stopped him, "hey...are you still mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad?" Gil played dumb rather well.

"Hey…you wanna catch breakfast after the shift?" she asked hopefully.

"I can't. I need to catch up with paperwork. I'll talk to you later."

"I think we should talk about this—" Sara began.

"We have rules," he interrupted, "work is for work," he reminded, he looked around cautiously, they were in the hall, and anyone passing by would hear if they weren't careful.

"You weren't paying much attention to that in the lab just now," Sara remarked coldly, her expression was dark.

Gil felt his temper begin to flare with her. She was asking too many questions out in the open. He took her by the arm and guided her into the nearest room – the Trace lab, which currently was unoccupied. He closed the door quickly, and turned to her.

"Look, I'm not getting into an argument about this here," he said trying to maintain a calm attitude.

"Why is it you can make rules and break them so easily, and yet…when I stick to them, it's still not good enough for you?" she demanded.

Gil sighed "what are you talking about?"

"You ask me to keep this a secret – when Warrick brought up the kiss on the head, I acted just as you had wanted me to act. I made it seem like nothing was going on – and you get mad at that."

"I never said I was mad, I said I was hurt," Gil corrected.

"And then you come into the lab announcing to Greg you've 'seen' my boyfriend! And by the way, you've made him even more suspicious than you did before thanks to your messing up on that eye colour question!" Sara admonished.

Gil remained silent, he could see she had more to say and with that dangerous look on her face, he wasn't about to interrupt her.

"You haven't said two words to me in the last two days! When I ask if we're going to see each other after work, you brush me off!" her voice was beginning to grow louder, "I don't get you! One minute we're pretty hot and heavy and the next I can't even tell if I'm in a relationship with you or not!" she was practically yelling now, he was tempted to put his hand over her mouth.

"Work isn't the place to discuss this," Gil remarked, trying to remain unruffled by her statement. He glanced to his left to see beyond the glass, Nick and Warrick had been walking by the Trace lab, and they had now stopped to stare, they could clearly see an argument was going on.

"If I don't discuss it here, it'll never get brought up, because you're the master of avoidance, Grissom," Sara clenched her fists.

Gil lowered his voice, he was shaking with fury, "what do you want me to do?" he asked in little more than a growl.

"I want you to stop this! We're nearly two months down the line and you're still doing it!" She cried at him.

"Doing what?" he asked, feeling somewhat blank.

"Playing games!" Sara hissed, "you get me close to thinking that I'd be better off leaving this relationship, and then you do something that makes me stay…"

"That's not true," Gil responded, although he was beginning to see how it could seem that way.

Sara sucked in a sharp breath, she was visibly shaking, "you're so completely frustrating! How can you stand there and be so completely stoic!"

"Because we're at work, and we agreed work was work, and that we'd maintain a perfect working relationship, that was the deal, remember?"

"Jesus Christ, the only relationship I can seem to have with you is at work!" Sara outburst, her face was filled with emotion. "Being with you in Edinburgh – it was still work…if it wasn't for work, we'd never be together, Gil."

Gil would never forgive himself for saying what he said next, "fine, if that's what you think then maybe we shouldn't be together."

Sara seemed completely taken by surprise. She virtually stepped back, her expression full of confusion. She hadn't expected his response at all. She tried to speak but the words seemed to fail her and all she could let out was one single breath.

She turned towards the door and left without another word, leaving him standing alone there, he glanced through the glass to see Nick and Warrick still standing gaping, they watched Sara pass by them. Nick reached out to Sara to touch her shoulder but she shrugged away from him, and marched stubbornly down the hall.

Warrick moved to the door and opened it, "Everything okay?" he asked of Gil.

Gil remained quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what to say, "just…just a work related brawl…that's all…we don't…uh…we don't always have the same opinion…" Gil passed by Warrick on his way out. One look from Warrick's face seemed to suggest that he and Nick had heard everything that had been said from behind that glass. "Excuse me…I have to get back to work."

* * *

Anxious stuff, huh?

I'll be adding the reviewers names in the next chapter as per usual :)

Thanks to Solaris-Snape for the awesome "prize" ;)

(chapter editted becuase I had Gil's name beside something Greg should have said).


	44. Chapter 44: Why!

**Chapter 44**

**Why!**

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****

Gil couldn't face Sara again that day, and so he quietly retreated to his office to brood, he closed his door in and sat behind his desk. No matter how much he tried to work, he couldn't bear to even face it.

He let his elbows rest upon the desk and held his face in his hands.

_Why did I say that to her! Why!_ He demanded of himself. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the image of how her face had looked at that precise moment when he'd said what he'd said. _I just technically dumped the only woman I've ever actually cared about! How could I be so stupid_?

He sighed deeply.

I _don't want to break up with her, I don't. But how am I supposed to take it back now? She looked so completely…hurt…when I said it_.

Gil wished he could be swallowed up by a big black hole right then.

It was twenty-minutes after the incident when Catherine showed up, she opened the door to his office without knocking, she stepped and closed the door behind herself.

"Warrick, uh…told me what happened in the Trace lab," Catherine admitted.

Gil sat up straight, "What'd he hear."

"Mostly angry words," Catherine took a seat opposite him, she folded one leg neatly over the other, she twisted her body slightly to lean her elbow on the back of the chair, "he said most of those words were muffled by the glass if it's any consolation."

"Did anyone else hear?" Gil asked.

"Nick," Catherine shrugged, "apart from that, I don't think so. You were lucky. Damn lucky."

"I wasn't the one yelling," Gil said, "it was Sara, I just couldn't calm her down…"

"According to Warrick, you didn't look like you were even trying…" Catherine had a concerned expression on her face, "so what was this argument about?"

"She says I'm playing games."

"Are you?" Catherine asked rather forwardly.

"Come on, you know me, Cath. Do I look like the kind of guy who would play with peoples feelings?"

"No," Catherine said, "but you also don't look like the guy who would eat insects and ask for blood and urine donations from your subordinates."

Gil sighed, he looked down, he folded his arms and rest them on the desk.

"What started the whole argument?"

"She said something that kind of bothered me…and I guess I was feeling, uh…a little resentful…and then we had this discussion in the lab with Greg – who we think suspects we're dating. Then we were out in the hallway, she asked me out to breakfast, I had to refuse, I have to try and clear this paperwork…" he explained, "she wants to talk, I tell her work isn't the place, we go into the trace lab for privacy, she just totally loses it…"

"What was said?" Catherine asked.

"I don't know…it all seemed to happen so fast," Gil paused to think, "she said…she said that the only relationship we really seemed to have was at work. And I said if that's what she thought then we shouldn't be together and…then she walked out looking really hurt…"

"And you didn't run after her."

"No…how could I? Warrick and Nick were watching—" he tried to explain.

"Screw Warrick and Nick, if you love the girl you go after her, end of story…" Catherine admonished. "Gil, you are the smartest man I know, and still it amazes me how incredibly stupid you can be."

"I am stupid…" Gil sighed, "stupid, and an idiot, and a raving imbecile."

"You're a man, it comes naturally," Catherine said. "Remember what you told me on the phone…about Sara drinking?" She asked, "Have…you had anymore thoughts about what her problem might really be?"

"No…" Gil said, "I asked her if I was part of it. She didn't say I wasn't, but she did confirm I'm not the whole problem…"

"So obviously there's something else…" Catherine said, "must be something pretty serious to have driven her to drink."

"Cath, what am I meant to do?"

"Get your head out of your own ass for a start," Catherine answered, "you need to start paying attention to her – this relationship is more than about your needs, okay. She needs you. She's going through something, and if it's big enough for her to lose her temper with you at work, then obviously it's something you need to confront her about."

"Look, it's already too late. I broke up with her, she's never going to want to talk to me again," Gil pointed out.

"She'll cool off…" Catherine assured.

"Are you positive about that?" Gil asked with a dejected sigh.

Catherine nodded confidently, "Just give her a day or two of breathing room before you try to approach her."

"What then?" Gil asked.

Catherine paused, "be sensitive, be open, be honest, be caring, be everything she needs you to be," Don't just stand there like a vegetable and expect her to love you back."

"And this will work?" Gil asked.

Catherine gave a shrug, "it's better than just sitting back and accepting things as they are."

Gil decided to take Catherine's advice. Her advice hadn't done him wrong so far. And besides, Catherine was a women, and women had more experience in knowing what other women needed. And he had to admit, she was right, trying to do something about it was at least better than sitting back and accepting the relationship was over.

_I sat back and accepted things for far too long. If I'd done something about my feelings for Sara years ago, I wouldn't be in this mess right now_, he thought.

He did as Catherine had told him to, he gave Sara a few days breathing room. She had a day off the day following the argument, and this gave him to think and not have to worry about seeing her at work. The next two days he asked Catherine to deal out the assignments to the team whilst he put in some over time to do some fieldwork and help clear the last of the cases that had piled up when he'd been gone.

He saw Sara through windows as he passed by the labs, and whenever she saw him, she'd quickly turn away, feigning expressions of nonchalance.

Finally, when he felt enough time had passed, he began to seek her out. He'd tried to catch her at the start of shift, but Eckie had pulled him in for a meeting before he'd had the chance. Thankfully, Ecklie had seemed to know nothing about the argument with Sara in the Trace lab. That could only be a good thing, in Gil's opinion.

As the day progressed, he searched but found no trace of her, and could not even find anyone who seemed to know where she might be. He tried her phone, but every time he dialed, the only thing he could reach was her voice mail, and he'd already left a message on it asking her to come see him.

As a last resort, he finally went to Greg in the DNA lab. Greg liked Sara, Greg seemed to know where Sara was at all times, he was the last hope of finding Sara now.

Greg was searching through a waste dispenser frantically, Gil could hear him swearing under his breath as he stepped through the door.

"What are you doing?" Gil asked, "I'm paying you to analyse DNA, not rake through garbage…"

"Something fell in here, all right…?" Greg sighed.

"What did you drop, and please tell me it wasn't the DNA samples for the case I'm on…please…" Gil chewed the inside of his cheek.

"No…" Greg finally responded, he finally leaned up from the trash, a candy wrapper in his hand, "found it!"

"You searched through garbage…for…garbage?"

"Contest," Greg said, "check the inside of the wrapper after eating the Snickers bar, you could win a brand new card…" he said enthusiastically as he turned the wrapper over, he read the inside of the wrapper and his face dropped, "or a free snickers bar," he mumbled.

"Have you seen Sara?" Gil asked.

"Lost her?" Greg asked, he pocketed the wrapper. "She's been in a weird mood for a few days, huh?" he asked.

"I don't know, I haven't seen her," Gil responded, "I've been working three cases, I haven't had the time to see anyone. Have you seen her?"

"Yes, I have," Greg answered, "if you're our supervisor, shouldn't you already know where she is?"

"Cath is in charge for now, I'm trying to catch up with other priority cases," Gil answered, "Now are you going to tell me where I can find her, or am I going to have to add in 'searching for lost Snickers wrapper instead of working' in your next evaluation?"

"Sara and Brass are out working on a case," Greg answered, "somewhere out in the desert, she wasn't specific," Greg shrugged.

"Can you have her come see me just before six am?" Gil asked, his shift ending at that particular time.

"No can do," Greg responded, "she's got plans."

"Oh?" Gil asked.

"Yeah, me and Sara are heading to Frankensteins Bar after our shift – we finish at two," he explained. "You should know."

"Yes, I should know, but I haven't had time to keep up with anything lately," Gil responded a little more haughtily than he might have intended to. "Why are you going to Frankensteins with Sara?" he asked. He wondered if perhaps Greg had immediately tried to ask Sara out after finding out Sara was now single again.

"She's been kind of…I don't know, down…so I thought a drink might cheer her up," Greg shrugged.

"That's the last thing I think that's going to cheer her up, Greg," Gil sighed, "look…if you see her, just tell her to come see me?"

"Why don't you just call her?" Greg asked.

"I did. I keep getting her voicemail," Gil shrugged.

"She didn't tell you she has my phone right now?" Greg said.

"Why does she have your phone?" Gil asked.

"Cath didn't tell you?"

"What?"

"Sara's phone just suddenly died the other day. Company is going to pay for a new phone, but the request is backlogged with a lot of other equipment so in the meantime Cath made me give my phone to Sara temporarily until she can get her own."

"Right," Gil asked, "actually…just leave it…I'll catch up with her somehow."

* * *

Thanks to the following people for reviewing!

oneillite, Erlina Silverstra, AngelApple70x7, NimrodDuckie, alias101, Aidrianna, woody27, Beccy, princesspink, kristy87, jbr12476, CSIfreak92, MissAmanda, TERRY - cRaZy ItALian, Solaris-Snape, jtbwriter, Ambient Flames, sarahmakinson, and PhDelicious (god thats alot of reviews, lol. But I love getting them! You all still make my day:D)

SS


	45. Chapter 45: Frankensteins

**Chapter 45**

**Frankensteins**

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****

Frankensteins bar hadn't changed at all in the past two months. Gil noted, though, that the place was a lot quieter than it had been on the night he had come here with the rest of his team. Whether the lack of business was because it was almost three am and the patrons had gone home, or if it was the fact that it was a weeknight, Gil wasn't sure, and honestly didn't care.

He hadn't thought he'd ever have a reason to come back to the place at all, so it felt strange to walk through the doors. Immediately he stood out like a sore thumb to the remaining patrons, they surveyed him with a critical eye, their painted lips pulled in amused smirks.

Gil tried to ignore he was under scrutiny, and he made his way around trying to find where Greg and Sara might have been situated. He was concerned they might have already left. He'd wanted to leave work at two am just like Sara and Greg, to get here not long after them – although he'd been very unsure of what he might do once he got there. Gil had been unable to get away from work at two, urgent matters had needed tending to. He had, however, finally managed to slip out at two-forty. He was supposed to be doing fieldwork, which he decided he would take care of after he spoke with Sara. He would have to be quick though, he didn't like the chances of getting caught in a bar nowhere near where he was meant to be investigating.

He was about to turn a corner when he eventually saw them, sitting at a small table, drinks in their hands. Tonight, the music was so incredibly low in the bar, that he found he didn't even have to strain to hear them speak. He moved back behind the safety of the corner to listen.

"Come on, whatever is going on, you can tell me. We've known each other nearly five years, don't you think you can trust me by now?" Greg was saying.

Sara gave a sigh, "look, nothing is wrong, okay?"

Gil recognized the slur in her voice, she'd had a lot to drink already. Immediate concern began to make his limbs grow tense.

"Look, I heard Warrick talking to Cath about you and Grissom having a fight in the trace lab a few nights ago…"

Sara faltered for a moment, Gil wondered if she'd taken that moment to take a sip of her drink, he had his back to the wall so he wouldn't be seen, this unfortunately meant he also could not see them either. "That was a work related discussion," Sara finally responded. "It's nothing to do with how I'm feeling at all."

Gil sighed to himself. _It was work related – and it shouldn't have been. It shouldn't have even happened at all_, he thought.

"Sara, I'm not stupid, okay?" Greg gave a sigh too, "I might be a goof ninety percent of the time, but I like to think I have some kind of intelligence…" he took a long pause, "I know the look on your face. Guy trouble, right?"

Gil craned his neck to look around the corner quickly.

Sara was staring away into space, her drink still in her hand, "it doesn't matter anymore…really."

Gil felt a tug on his heart just to hear her speak in such a jaded tone.

"If it's got you this upset, then it must matter," Greg responded, "so…" he began, "what's he done?"

"Hmm?" Sara asked.

"Grissom," Greg replied, "what's he done? Cheated? Stole from you? Degraded you? Beat you up?" he reeled off rather seriously.

"Nothing like that," Sara said, "He's just…I don't know…" she took another pause, "I can't talk about this. I can't say anything. Whatever I say doesn't just affect me, it affects him…and he isn't comfortable with me talking about him to people…so…"

"What did he do?"

"The stupid thing is he did nothing…" Sara said, "that's what's so crazy about it…" she trailed off.

"I'm not following," Greg admitted.

"It's too hard to explain," Sara sighed.

"Then why so glum?" Greg asked. "He must have done something…"

Gil couldn't take it any longer, standing there listening to this, he turned the corner, and made his presence known. Sara turned to look at him in surprise. He wasn't sure if it was surprise that he had possibly been eavesdropping, or surprise that he had come here at all.

Greg, however, didn't seem surprised at all to see Gil standing there; it was almost as if he'd expected it.

"He had his head up his own ass," Gil admitted, he looked towards Sara and sucked in a nervous breath, "as usual," he added quietly.

Sara looked down to the table, "Aren't you meant to be working?" she asked rather coldly.

"I'm supposed to be out on the field," Gil answered.

Greg looked between the both of them back and forth, "I'm kind of in the way here, right?"

"Kind of," Gil said, "make yourself scarce for five minutes, that's all I ask."

Greg gave a nod, stood, and disappeared out of sight of the table.

"May I sit?" Gil asked, gesturing to the empty chair Greg had just been sitting in.

"I don't own the table," Sara didn't look up at him.

Gil sat down slowly, he put both his hands on the table, "I…don't know what to say, Sara. I came here with all these thoughts of how I was going to poetically say I'm sorry, but…now…I'm lost for words."

"Typically Grissom," Sara remarked.

"Things were crazy at work when we had that argument. Tensions were running high, we hadn't had much sleep…"

Sara shrugged.

"And I was being an ass."

"Go on."

"You know, ever since I graduated college, the only thing I've ever had in my life is work. I've spent my whole life working up to this moment to be where I am…" he explained.

Sara finally raised her eyes to look at him in confusion, as if to ask what this had to do with anything at all.

"I've spent my whole life working on my career, and never letting people in…" he shrugged, "so…whenever a woman came along from time to time, I knew what to do with her physically, but…emotionally, that was a whole different story…which is why I've never had a long term romantic relationship with anyone."

Sara remained deadly silent, her eyes meeting his.

"And then you came along. And here I am struggling to figure all this out. Despite what you might think…I do know what to do with you physically…" he confessed. "That's not the problem."

"I know that, Gil. I knew that the minute you had me on that bed."

"I still don't know how to deal with you emotionally yet…" Gil said, "and now I don't even know how to deal with myself."

Sara frowned a little, "What are you talking about?"

"I knew who I was. I know what I was, and where I was in life…" Gil answered quickly. "And now…it's like…" he searched for the right thing to say again, "I'm a jigsaw puzzle…the pieces all fit together well enough - you can't even see where it doesn't match up…" he sighed, "But…then it's like…you came along, and picked up a few of those pieces and rearranged them. Made some pieces fit better, made the picture clearer…made it make more sense…" he searched her eyes hoping to see even a glimmer of understanding in them, "Now that I'm looking at the puzzle, I can see there's a few important pieces missing…and there's also one or two new pieces you added that…I didn't know I had…which is making me think you might have the rest of it…"

"Can't you say anything simply?" she put her drink down on the table,.

"How simple do you want me to be?" Gil asked, he reached over to take her hand but she pulled her hand away before he even had a chance to touch it.

Sara didn't answer him.

"How can I say it simply?" he asked. He sat there in silence for a few moments, staring over at her, trying to read the emotions in her face, "I need you in my life…you complete the puzzle."

Sara's eyes glistened, but she did not speak, nor respond. He thought she might cry, but she was being strong, no tears escaped. She didn't take her eyes off him for a single moment.

"I'm sorry for everything that happened…I'm sorry for every little wrong thing I've done…" he explained, "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"Sorry doesn't just make it all better, Grissom," Sara finally said, her voice was thick with emotion.

"I know it doesn't…" he agreed, he pulled his chair around the table so he could sit next to her, be close to her, she watched him critically. "Tell me how I can make it all better, and I'll do it," he murmured.

She looked away from him, she let her arms rest on the table, she absently picked at a broken fingernail, and said nothing.

Gil put both his hands on the arm nearest to him, "Sara…" he murmured, "I'll do anything…" he confessed.

Sara swallowed, he could see the emotion coming up to the surface, and he could tell she was trying to force it back.

He slid his hands along her arm, to her wrist, to her hand and raised it to kiss her fingers, he never let his eyes leave her, not once.

Sara stared down at the table, not seeing it, not seeing anything anymore, she still hadn't spoken and Gil was beginning to fear it might be too late, that nothing of the relationship could be salvaged.

Gil drew his breath, "Sara…I don't want this to be over."

Sara still remained unspoken, her eyes never leaving the table, she lowered her head a little more, her hair falling across her face.

He reached over and brushed the hair away from her cheek, "I know I hurt you. I never meant to, it was the last thing I ever wanted to do…" he leaned in a little closer, so he could murmur the words as softly as he could.

Sara hadn't spoken for some moments now, and Gil was growing weary of this one-sided conversation. He reached out, placed his hand upon her cheek, and gently turned her face so that she'd look at him, her eyes finally met his once again. They were glistening, tears threatening to spill.

The familiar ache in his heart began again to see her so upset, he was afraid if those tears did fall, his heart might cave in completely, and leave him hollow inside. He swallowed back his own emotion, "I…don't know what else to say," he confessed.

Sara looked away with a slight shrug, the wall of tears in her eyes quivered as she moved, she sighed, the slightest tremble in her body.

He wished she'd just say something, say anything at all. Her body language and her expressions spoke volumes, she didn't know how to deal with him right now – he understood that. But it didn't make it any easier.

_You're lying. You know what to say, you know exactly what to say, you've practiced it a hundred times in your mind since getting together with Sara_, he thought at himself. _It doesn't need to be romantic, it doesn't need to be in a romantic place, the mood doesn't need to be set. This is the right time. She needs to hear it, and you need to say it…so say it already, Gil. Tell her._

"No, wait…" Gil finally said, "I do know what to say," he declared. "I always thought…if I had to say this, then it'd have to be in the perfect time and place because…otherwise it might not mean even half of what it should…" he confessed, his hand was still on her face, he brushed her cheek gently with his thumb, "but now I know it doesn't matter when I say it…" he looked at her, "as long as it's you I'm saying it to…"

Sara's eyes were once again on his, locked.

"I…" Gil swallowed, "I love you."

There was a silence, Sara was just looking at him, the tears still about to spill.

His phone began to ring, he groaned, "Not now," he mumbled under his breath.

"You're still on the clock…" Sara blinked, and the tears came loose, she tried to wipe them quickly, "you need to go…"

"But—" he tried, his heart was torn just at the sight of her tears.

"It's your job…" Sara looked at him, "go."

Gil got up slowly.

_It's too late. Telling her I love her doesn't even matter anymore, she's done with me_, he thought dejectedly. _I blew it._

"I'm…I'm sorry…" he said in a stammer, he reached for his phone in his pocket, and turned to leave, his heart heavy. His heart sore.

* * *

hides It's not the end yet! Don't kill me!

Thanks to the people who've been reviewing (I'll name them in 46).


	46. Chapter 46: Stupid

**Chapter 46**

**Stupid**

* * *

Gil found the rest of his shift hard to cope with, but somehow he managed to stay professional and get the work done. It was hard staying focused though. He had to remind himself that these kinds of reasons were why he hadn't wanted to get into a relationship. It could distract him from his work.

He really didn't want to care about being distracted at work, but part of it was as involuntary as breathing. It happened, without needing to think about it, it just couldn't be helped.

Gil was glad when the shift ended, he drove home, taking note how dark it was still. It was past six am and the sun should have risen and the sky should have been clear blue by now. Instead, the sky was incredibly grey, and overcast, promising rain. Gil felt very much at one with that sky right at that particular moment. It was exactly how he felt inside, dark, and oppressive, just like those clouds.

He managed to get into his house just before the heavens opened and the downpour came. He stood in the small hallway for some moments, staring out of the open door and watching the rain pelt off the quiet street. It was the heaviest rain he'd seen in Vegas in years.

_Perhaps the weather is reflecting my mood_, he decided, and with a heavy heart, he closed the door, and slipped into the living room.

The whole room seemed devoid of any colour, as grey as it was outside, the rain on the windows played shadows on the walls. Gil sighed to himself.

I _can't believe me and Sara are really over…I can't believe I said I love her and she just…told me to go_, he thought. He slumped down onto his couch, and stared at the ceiling_. I shouldn't have gone, I should have told her I wouldn't go until she forgave me, until she took me back_.

The room was too silent, too eerie in this darkness. The only thing he could hear was the rain outside, and as soothing as it should have seemed, it only made him feel more cold inside.

He got up and switched on the CD player. A CD had been left in from the last time he'd used it, although he couldn't remember when he'd last used it or what he'd been listening to. Whatever it was, it had to be better than sitting in this dreadful silence.

He pressed play, not really caring at all, then turned to take his jacket off and hang it up. He'd barely gotten halfway across the room when the somber strings of the music began to flow through the room.

The classical piece Adagio gripped him inside so fiercely so that he stood there for several moments in the room overwhelmed by the severity of the music.

His emotion, doubled with the intense solemn sound of this particular piece, left him reminded of how incredibly alone he was in his house, with his butterfly collection and his pet tarantula.

As the crescendo of strings grew, the notes became higher and he felt those familiar and unwelcome tugs at his heart again, the physical ache of his hearts yearning.

_How am I going to get through another day never being with her the same way again_? Gil thought_. How can I see her every day and know that I'm never going to hold her again, never kiss her head again, never touch her hair, smell her shampoo_, he thought miserably.

He slipped his jacket off and hung it up, giving a deep sigh that left his lungs feeling completely caved. He was almost ready to head for the bedroom when there was a knock at the front door. It was slight, and had almost been inaudible. If his music had been any louder, it might have gone completely unheard.

He switched the CD player off, and then he headed towards the door, apprehensive, although he wasn't sure why. He opened the door slowly, he wasn't prepared for his surprise visitor.

Sara was standing on the stoop, completely soaked from head to toe, her hair hanging in curly tendrils, dripping. Her thin corduroy jacket had completely soaked through, as had her pants.

"Sara…" he swallowed the lump that came in his throat.

Sara looked at him from behind her spiky wet eyelashes, water dripping down her face, she said nothing, she merely shivered, hunching her shoulders against the cold, her hands hid in her sleeves.

"Come in…" he said quickly, "Jesus, it's pouring out there, are you trying to catch pneumonia?"

Sara stepped in slowly, she was so unbelievably soaked, that even her shoes squelched as she followed him into the living room, the water made soft tapping noises as it fell to the tiles on the floor.

"Here…let me take your jacket," Gil said. When Sara said nothing, neither in agreement nor objection, he stood behind her, took a firm hold of the freezing cold wet collar and began to peel it off her. More water fell to the floor, splashing the tiles. "You're soaked through…" he commented, noting how her shirt even clung to her body.

Sara turned to him slowly, she looked as if she was about to speak, but Gil interrupted, he didn't want to spend time talking with her while she was so completely drenched and freezing. She was shivering.

"Come with me…" he said. With her wet jacket still in one hand, he took her by the wrist with the other, not sure if it would be wise to take her hand anymore now that the relationship was over. There was a small utility room in the back of his home where he kept his washer and dryer, he took her here. A basket of clean unfolded and un-ironed laundry had been left on top of the dryer. He'd been so busy since returning from Edinburgh, he'd not found time to deal with it.

"You need to get out of those wet clothes – you'll end up ill," he said as he dropped her jacket on top of the washing machine for the time being. He searched through the basket, grabbing the nearest sweater he could find, and a pair of sweatpants that he only ever wore at home. "These should fit you…pants might be a bit loose…but it's the only thing I have that…would probably fit…" he said, "you know where the bathroom is, you can get changed there…if you bring me your clothes, I'll dry them…as best I can," he rambled.

Sara gave a vague nod, and finally spoke, "okay…"

Gil watched her disappear out of the room. He picked her jacket up, turned it inside out, checked the label to make sure it was machine washable and dryable, and he dropped into the dryer.

The utility room had a small window, and what little light had come through the clouds showed through the rain and struggled to light up the room as best it could.

Sara returned with her wet clothes. She padded barefoot over to him.

Gil took the clothes, "these are all dryable, right? Nothing here is supposed to go to a drycleaners, is it?" he asked.

Sara shook her head.

Gil put the clothes into the dryer to join the jacket and switched it on. "Probably going to be a while before they're dry," he said, "at eighty minutes," he said. He took a moment to survey her in his clothes. He couldn't explain the strange attractiveness it gave her to be standing there wearing his sweater and sweatpants. The sweater – which was thick blue fleece – seemed to drown her, made her seem even more slim than her own clothes did. The pants were slightly too long, and almost covered her bare feet completely, save her cold pink toes.

"C'mon, I'll put the heat on in the living room," he said, he led the way, "is something wrong? Why'd you come here? You should be getting some sleep…"

"I went for a long walk after drinking with Greg," Sara confessed, her voice very slight, "I needed to sober up…"

"Oh," Gil responded, he moved over to the radiator to turn it on, he knelt down because the dial to control the heat was on the very bottom section.

"You know my philosophy. Walking is the best way to clear your head," she moved a damp curl of hair away from her face.

"The last thing you said to me – before your phone rang – it didn't hit me…until about twenty minutes ago…" Sara said, "Because I was drunk…and mad at you…"

This made him stop what he was doing, he raised his head to look at her, silent."You…said you love me…" Sara's bottom lip trembled, "you said you love me and I told you to go…" she looked away, her eyes filling with tears. "I finally get what I want…and then…I just…I push it away…" she swallowed, the tears broke free and slid down her cheeks.

Gil hated to see her cry, but there were the tears, and he stood slowly, he began to cautiously move forward, not sure what he might do once he reached her.

Sara continued, "And then…it hit me…that suddenly I knew what it was like to be you…" she wiped her face with the sleeve of the sweater she was wearing, "at the time I didn't know how to deal with what you said…and so I pushed you away…" her voice came out in strange chokes, thick with emotion. "And that's what you've been doing…pushing me away because you didn't know how to deal with it…" more tears came with this admission, and she took in a shuddering breath.

He approached her, they were standing a foot apart.

"I've…been so…stupid…" Sara put her hand over her eyes, her head falling low, "I've been…so stupid."

"No…" Gil reached out and took her hand away from her eyes, "you haven't…I have. I haven't been open enough. I've been…selfish…the only thing I keep thinking about is how I feel…"

"I have too," Sara said, "I should have been thinking more about you and your position…your feelings…you said you were having trouble with opening up and trying to relax in the relationship and I just didn't…seem to get that…all I could think about was just…that I wanted more…and you just weren't ready for that," Sara looked away from him, she shook her head at herself, another tear escaped. "I'm not good with relationships…I never have been," she admitted, "and I should have understood when you said you weren't."

"Y'know…I don't care anymore who's right and who's wrong. I don't care who's fault all this is, and I don't care how stupid we can get every now and then. It's only human nature…" Gil stepped closer, he put his fingers under her chin and guided her to turn and look back at him, he moved closer still, and kissed the tear from her cheek away. "What I do care about…is getting past this…"

"Me too," she said quietly.

He slipped his arms around her and pulled her to him in a fierce hug, her head pressed against his shoulder, he buried his hand in her damp hair and closed his eyes, grateful to feel her there in his arms once again. "I meant what I said in the bar. Every word of it…I love you," he murmured.

He heard her taking in a shaky breath, as if this caught her by surprise, for he'd said it twice the space of four hours.

For the first time ever, Gil heard her say it back to him. "I love you too."

* * *

A big thank you from the bottom of my little fanfiction writing heart to the people who have reviewed: Niebezpiczny Ksiezyc, Miss Amanda, Ambient Flames, luckyladyinlace, wandaa, CSIfreak92, Aidrianna, Erlina Silverstra,Piper135, CSICubsFan, CookieK2, NimrodDuckie, ScullyAsTrinity, princesspink, kristy87, EJ, Solaris-Snape, jbr12476, me, and Hope.

Whoever reviewed as anonymous 'me'. I'm not offended, I'm not deliberately tormenting readers either, lol. I'm just paying homage to the five yearGrissom-Sara-Relationship tease CSI has mindfucked us with over and over with little 'handholds' and tiny 'confessions'. ;) My feelings aren't hurt. My back, however, from sitting up writing this last chapter, definately is.


	47. Chapter 47: Sleep Over

**Chapter 47**

**Sleep Over**

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* * *

****

Sara was standing at the window, gazing out into the rain, she stood, her hands hugging a cup of tea, the rain playing patterns on her face, "When is this rain going to let up?" she asked. It had been an hour since she'd arrived, and she was still waiting for her clothes to dry.

Gil rinsed out his cup, he'd long since finished his tea. Exhaustion was beginning to weigh him down, his eyes were stinging with the effort of trying to keep them open. They'd spent the last forty-five minutes talking between themselves. They tried to keep the subjects as neutral as possible, not too much talk of work, and no talk of all about their argument.

Sara had made one admission before they fell into general conversation, and it had been that Greg had acted very innocent about Gil's turning up at the bar, despite it seemed very obvious that he'd expected it.

Gil decided he'd speak with Greg when next he had the chance about this, he made a mental note of it and said no more about it to Sara.

"This rain isn't going to let up," Sara sighed, "can you give me a ride home? I left my car at work because I knew I was going to be drinking," she turned to look at him. "I can get these clothes back to you tomorrow," she tugged absently at the front of the sweater.

Gil stood looking at her for a moment, "Listen…" he said softly, "lets, uh…"

Sara raised an eyebrow quizzically, and waited for him to complete the sentence.

"Uh…how do you feel…uh…about staying over?"

She was silent for a moment, not sure how to take this question, "Are you asking me to sleep with you?"

"Yes," Gil said, "but…not in the way that…might suggest any physical activity…" he added.

"But sleep in the same bed as you?" Sara asked.

"We've already slept on the same bed together – in Edinburgh," he pointed out, "and we're both tired…and…" he yawned, "by the time we wake up your clothes will be dry, and I can drive you to work."

"Ah…about my clothes," Sara said, "I can't go to work in the same clothes I wore yesterday," she put her cup down on a nearby end table, "you might have put them through the dryer, but they're still dirty…"

Gil shrugged, "so change at work, you keep a change of clothes for emergencies, use that."

Sara looked at him, "you sure you're okay with that?" she asked, "I mean I know you're a little…personal…about your space."

"It's fine," Gil assured.

"Can I sleep in these?" she asked, gesturing to her clothes.

"Yeah…" He nodded, "let me go, uh, find something for me to sleep in," he added. "I…uh…don't usually have anyone sleeping over so, uh…I don't usually bother with…uh…never mind."

Sara blinked, "excuse me?"

"Nothing," he responded, he wished he hadn't even brought it up in the first place.

"Wait, are you saying you go commando?" Sara said, and for the first time that morning, he saw her smirking, her eyes lighting up in that same way they usually did.

"What are you smirking at?" he raised an eyebrow, "you sleep with pajamas with cartoon penguins on them. That's worse than going 'commando'," he pointed out.

"What is the big deal with sleeping naked," Sara asked.

"You wear clothes, you wake up uncomfortable with the pants all twisted around the wrong way, the shirt up rides to your chin," he shrugged. "Give me five minutes."

"You know at some point I will see you naked," Sara commented as he was about to leave the room.

"All the lights will be going out when that time comes, Miss Sidle."

"At some point I will be naked too," Sara added.

"The lights will still be out," he assured with a firm nod and a slight smile, he headed for the door leading to the bedroom.

"You won't see my tattoo."

Gil stopped, "tattoo?"

Sara smirked, "I knew that'd get your attention."

"You don't have a tattoo," he made a face.

"Yes I do," Sara responded, "Just because you've never seen it before doesn't mean it's not there."

"I'll take your word for it, then," he responded, and left her standing in the living room alone with that last comment.

In his bed room, he picked up anything that might have been embarrassing for her to find and put it out of sight, and he quickly found something to wear, another pair of sweatpants, and a t-shirt, and he changed.

_I can't believe she has a tattoo, how come she never mentioned that before? _He thought absurdly, as he opened the door to his bedroom and peered out at her, "okay…you can come in now…"

"Have you hidden all your porn videos and Playboy magazines so I can't see and you can pretend like you're a saint?" Sara joked.

"I don't own any Playboy magazines," Gil assured, he watched her enter his room, she looked around with a critical eye. His bedroom was as plain as the rest of the apartment. One wall was lined with black metal shelving unites, filled with his various insect displays, pet insect terrariums. He had jars with strange petrified creatures in them, fossils with various prehistoric insects.

"Wow…I just stepped into your office…and there's a bed!" Sara looked around, "I knew you had to have more of this weird stuff somewhere," she picked up one of the fossils from a shelf, "Where do you get this stuff anyway?"

"Ebay, you can buy almost anything on there. I saw one guy selling his soul on Ebay…I think he sold it for five thousand dollars," Gil smirked. "One time, there was even this guy on Ebay selling his ex-wife's wedding dress, and he was modeling it on a photograph – he actually had the dress on. Got a lot of attention online," he admitted.

Sara gave a soft laugh, "so…uh…what side of the bed do you sleep on usually anyway?"

"It usually starts off on the right…" he confessed, "But by the time I wake up…" he trailed off.

"You're all over the left?"

He shrugged, "I noticed you sleep in the middle of your bed…the time I stayed overnight at your place during the blackout I came in to leave you a note to say I had to go…" he explained. He stood there looking her up and down, he was trying to decide where on her body she had the tattoo hidden. There were many places a tattoo could be on a body. As a young coroner, he'd see tattoos in the oddest and most unlikely of places. Her comment about her tattoo now had him wondering.

"Okay, so how about, I take the right side, you take the left and if you try to hog more of the left, you'll end up on the floor and I can stretch out in the middle when you finally fall off?" Sara asked with a slight smile.

"That sounds unfair, it's my bed."

"You're supposed to accommodate the guest," Sara shot playfully.

"Fine, take the right. If I wake up on the floor in a bad mood, I won't be held responsible though," he turned the covers down.

Sara stood there for a moment, "this is so weird…" she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"Sorry…It's just every other time I've seen you turn the covers over on a bed, you've had a UV light in your hand looking for body fluids," Sara pointed out.

Gil raised an eyebrow, "would you like me to get my UV light from my car just to prove to you my bed sheets are clean?" he teased.

Sara gave a nervous laugh, "no. I'd rather not," she pulled the covers back at the right side of the bed and sat down slowly, almost unsurely.

Gil climbed into the bed, it felt very strange. He supposed if he and Sara had made love by now, this might have felt less awkward, "can I ask you something?" he asked very casually as he pulled the covers over himself and settled down against the pillows.

"Hmm?" she asked she slowly lay on her left side facing him, not pulling the covers over herself yet.

"The tattoo…" Gil turned towards her, resting his elbow in the pillow and propping his head up on his hand, "sorry…I just…I'm curious," he admitted.

"You'll see it one day…" Sara assured, she smirked.

"What if, uh…I wanted to see it now?" he asked.

"Why do you want to see it now?" Sara asked quizzically.

"I don't know…I'm fascinated. I never knew you had a tattoo. Where is it?" he asked, "What is it of? How long have you had it?"

"I got it a few years ago," Sara said, "It's not a big deal," she said, "you won't even think it's worth seeing."

"I just want to see it…"

"Fine," she rolled onto her back she raised the hem of the sweater up her stomach a little, and pushed down the left side of the sweatpants a little to reveal low on her hip a miniscule tattoo of a lilac butterfly. "Satisfied?"

"Incredibly," he leaned a little closer to inspect the tattoo, "why a butterfly?" he asked, he raised his head up so that he was leaning over her, looking down on her face.

She paused, smirked and looked at him confidently, "Because I wanted to be in the collection on your living room wall," she joked.

"You'd look spectacular pinned against my living room wall," he murmured, he pecked her lips, then gave a yawn, "well…I really need to get some sleep…and so do you."

* * *

And yet another very blah chapter, but whatever, I just thought this would be slightly amusing for so many reasons.

Reviewers, I love you and I'll mention you in 48:)


	48. Chapter 48: Alarm

**Chapter 48**

**Alarm**

* * *

The alarm went off with it's startling shrill beeping, and Gil instinctively rolled over, eyes still closed, to reach out blindly and silence the blasted alarm clock. His outstretched hand felt the shoulder of someone else in the bed, a feeling he was definitely not used to when waking up.

Confused momentarily, he sat up, at first having forgotten all about asking Sara to stay with him, he rubbed his eyes and then glanced down at her. She was lying on her right side, her back turned to him, her hair splayed out over the pillow. She stirred and made a murmur of protest at the alarm. It all came back to him right then.

Gil moved closer, kneeling up and leaning across her to reach the alarm which was located on the right bedside cabinet, he hit the sleep button, and gave a yawn.

"What time is it?" Sara mumbled sleepily.

"Six," Gil ran his fingers through his hair, he stifled the urge to yawn once again.

Sara turned so that she was on her back, she rubbed the sleep away from her eyes, "seems like we barely just went to sleep…"

"I know," he lay back against the pillows for a moment, he closed his eyes, he was still undeniably tired.

"Lets call in sick," Sara suggested, her voice hopeful.

"Can't. It's Catherine's night off, remember," he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. Her eyes were slightly puffy, her hair now a disheveled mass around her head.

"Damn," Sara sat up to stretch, yawn, and she rolled her head. She let her arms rest on her knees, "I slept…so incredibly soundly," she turned to look at him, "aren't you getting up?"

"I would normally, but you said this morning that I'm supposed to accommodate for the guest, so that means that you have first use of the shower."

"Are you insinuated I stink again?" Sara raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Gil lied, he smirked.

Sara nudged him in the rib with her elbow, "not funny," she lay on her side, elbow propped on the pillow, she looked at him, "Its…kind of nice you know…" she said after a moment.

"Hmm?" he asked, not understanding.

"Waking up beside you…its…I don't know, comforting I guess," she confessed.

Gil smiled, "yes. Yes it is."

Sara leaned forward to kiss him, but swiftly he put his hand over her mouth before she had the chance. She looked at him with eyes full of confusion.

"Morning breath," he replied.

Sara moved back from his hand and put her own hand over her mouth, "yeah, that shows how long it's been since I woke up next to a guy," she admitted. "I'll go, uh…brush my teeth as best I can without a toothbrush."

"Listen, I think I might have a spare one for you…" Gil got out of the bed, "let me go take a look…"

"Why would you have a spare toothbrush?" Sara raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"I buy them in packs of three," Gil answered, "usually I use the spare ones to clean awkward places in the bathroom," he left the bedroom and headed towards the bathroom.

_Wow, that's a commitment, Gil_, he thought at himself. _You give a toothbrush to a woman, you're acknowledging she's going to be staying over at your house a lot. Why aren't you running like a cheetah trying to escape by now? This is the kind of thing you've been scared of all this time, isn't it? _

"Please say when you say 'spare' that it hasn't been used to clean your toilet," Sara got up and followed him quickly.

"No, I use it to clean my tarantula tank," he joked. In his pristine bathroom there was a small cupboard high up on the wall above the toilet, he put the toilet lid down to stand on it so he could get up high enough to reach the top shelf within it, he began to sift through various items.

Sara stood watching him, she folded her arms casually and leaned her backside against the old fashioned pedestal sink. "When was the last time you had a woman stay over here?" she asked casually.

"Over six years ago – before Catherine and Eddie got divorced, she had this huge fight with him at about four am," Gil said, he found the toothbrush multi package in the cupboard, one was missing from the package already. He picked out one of the remaining toothbrushes and stepped down, "she came here in tears. I never saw her so completely hysterical. You know Cath. She doesn't take bullshit, and she doesn't get overemotional often…when it happens, you know something bad is going on."

"How come she went to you and not her sister?" Sara asked.

"She didn't want her family knowing how bad things were in her marriage I guess," Gil shrugged, "I let Cath take my bed."

"That's…sweet," Sara said.

Gil handed her the toothbrush, "there you go, your very own toothbrush," he headed for the door, "I'll go start some coffee."

Sara held the toothbrush, "You've never had another woman sleep over in this house?" she asked, finding it quite hard to believe.

"They never stayed for breakfast," Gil shrugged, "should we even be talking about this? Isn't this one of those things that causes huge arguments between couples?"

"Sorry, I'll drop it," Sara shrugged, "thanks for the toothbrush."

When Gil pulled his car into the parking lot outside the police department, he was surprised to see Nick had already arrived. Nick was getting out of his own car, taking a sports bag from the passengers seat. He turned to see Gil park the car.

Sara rolled up her window, and climbed out, Nick approached. "Catching a ride from Grissom again? Car stall again?" he asked of her, he gestured to her own car which was still parked outside the building, where it had remained all of the previous night and the day before.

Sara seemed somewhat startled she was begin questioned so quickly before Nick had even thought to say hello.

Gil got out of the car and locked it, setting the alarm, he looked towards Sara to see if she was going to respond. Sara said nothing, she glanced towards Gil, seemingly as speechless as he himself would usually be.

_Why is Nick pretending he doesn't even know what's going on here_? Gil wondered. _He saw the argument, he figured out something about me and Sara by now. He's a damn good CSI, if he didn't figure this out by now, I should seriously think about retraining him_.

"Nick…on a scale of one to ten, how observant would you say you are?" Gil asked completely casually, he moved to stand beside Sara.

"Uh…" Nick paused, "is this a trick question?"

"Just answer, as truthfully as you can," Gil responded.

"I don't know…like an eight?" Nick answered.

"Okay…" Gil said, "if you're as observant as eight, then surely by now you've put two and two together."

Sara turned to look at Gil somewhat alarmed.

"And chances are if Greg knows, you know because Greg can't really keep his mouth shut," Gil added, "so you can stop pretending now that you don't know about this, okay?" he gestured between him and Sara, to indicate that indeed there was 'something' between them.

"Okay," Nick said, seemingly a little surprised with Gil's reaction to this. "Whatever you want," he seemed somewhat sheepish after admitting this, and went on to enter the building without waiting for them to catch up.

Sara turned to Gil, and gave a little laugh, "I don't believe you did that."

"Had to be done. Come on, how long could they play dumb? Warrick, Nick and Greg are worse than women, sharing all their little pieces of gossip," Gil shrugged, "do they honestly think that I wouldn't have realised what they knew by now?"

"Apparently not," Sara smirked.

The day was as hectic as usual for CSI. Gil paired Sara off with Nick on a murder case, while he and Warrick went to investigate a casino robbery where some incredibly sneaky con man had managed to walk out with a half a million dollars.

Gil was glad he'd decided to pair himself up with Warrick for the time being. Warrick was the last person on his team now that he hadn't admitted anything about his relationship with Sara to.

He was finally glad this was coming out into the open – at least to his team. He'd been hiding it for too long, and it was hard to keep secrets around them. As much as he'd preferred to remain an enigma, there was something almost relieving about having Nick, Catherine and Greg now knowing about his relationship with Sara. Nothing more to hide anymore.

"So…have you actually made any attempt to tell Catherine you're her secret admirer?" Gil asked, trying to be very cool and casual about the statement.

Warrick shrugged, "you know, it's more complicated than I thought it'd be."

"I hear you," Gil said, "its harder when you have feelings for someone you work with, isn't it?" he asked, never taking his eyes off the road.

Warrick turned to look at him, but said nothing.

"You start asking yourself if its worth risking a perfectly good working relationship – or even your job – just to have the woman you want. It's tough," Gil continued.

"Yeah, it is," Warrick turned back to look out of the passengers side window.

"Every day we step outside of our homes, Warrick, we take risks. A meteor could come crashing out of the sky and hit you the minute you step outside of your door. Or it might not happen. Would you really want it looming over your head that you could die tomorrow, and have at least not had one day with the woman you love?" Gil asked. "It might work out…it might not," he said with a shrug, "who's to say? If it doesn't work out, fine, you can at least say you gave it all you had anyway, but if you don't do anything, you'll sit there wondering for the rest of your days what might have been."

"So…what do you suggest I do?" Warrick asked.

"Take a risk," Gil answered.

Warrick fell silent for just a moment, then responded, "Like you did with Sara." It was more of a comment than a question.

Gil smirked, "exactly."

* * *

Thanks to the following reviewers for making my day today:

Aidrianna, Erlina Silverstra, alias101, sarahmakinson, NimrodDuckie, jtbwriter, Crystalwitch, MissAmanda, kristy87, PhDelicious, CrysWimmer, CSICubsFan, CookieK2, DolphinAnimagus, Woody27, maggienhawk, Phoenix38133.

Your reviews brighten my day, especially the longer ones.

Notes to the following reviewers:

maggienhawk: I'm glad you liked that I used Adagio. I listen to that classical piece often for inspiration and it felt like something Gil would listen to.

Woody27: don't worry, I'm shooting out the chapters as fast and often as I can. I have no intention of letting the update rate drop (unless something important comes).

CrysWimmer: thank you for saying such wonderful things about my last chapter. It made my day to hear that you thought they were still in character. I'm glad you had a lovely morning.

kristy87: What can I say? You not only review almost every single chapter, but you also message me on ICQ every day to tell me how much you like my chapters, which makes my day to hear from you. I'm glad you liked the pinned against the wall comment - I knew it'd tickle you when I wrote it.

Erlina Silverstra: I hope you're happy now this chapter is up. It always makes my day to hear something like my chapters make someone smile.

NimrodDuckie: thanks for mentioning the connection they have emmitting off the screen, I never thought my writing could do that!

Aidrianna: Yes, Gil sleeps naked, and that was just to satisfy my sick little mind. ;)


	49. Chapter 49: Bragging over Breakfast

**Chapter 49**

**Bragging over Breakfast**

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****

Everything save work went so incredibly smoothly for the next few days that Gil had no trouble trying to balance his personal life and his work life. Sara seemed much more content than she had before, and he wasn't sure if it was his attitude that had made her happier, or simply that they were no longer playing secrets with the rest of the team.

For the next few days, they carried on with their work. A mass murder case had come in that required so much attention there had been no time to steal romantic glances at each other. Gil wasn't concerned, for Sara had shown no upset at this at all. Their work relationship for that next few days remained like it always had before they'd begun to see each other romantically. A friendship, an understanding, a melding of minds.

The case only took two days to solve, much to Grissom's relief. He'd had his whole team overworked so much since his trip to Edinburgh that he was beginning to feel incredibly guilty.

When the shift on that second day had ended, Gil headed to the locker room to catch everyone before they left. When he approached the locker room – the door as usual left wide open, everyone was chattering amongst themselves, discussing the case as they pulled on their jackets, and grabbed various pieces from their lockers that they might need to take home.

"Hey," Gil said, he stood at the door, he leaned his shoulder into the threshold, putting his hands into the pockets of his brown suede jacket, "great work on the case."

"Thanks," Catherine said, she slipped on a pair of designer sunglasses, she adjusted her hair whilst staring at a compact mirror in her hand.

Sara glanced over to Gil curiously "you're leaving earlier than usual?" she asked, noting Gil was wearing his jacket, which meant he too was leaving for the day, "don't you have a ton of paperwork to catch up with?"

"I do, but I dealt with priority stuff, and the rest can wait…" Gil answered, "Catherine, you really messed up my paperwork system, by the way," he playfully threw Catherine a disapproving glance, but then smiled.

"No, really messing it up would have been taking the whole pile, throwing it in the trash and setting fire to it," Catherine smirked.

Gil pretended not to hear this, "anyway…you all deserve a thanks for all the overtime you've all put in lately…I know you all have lives, and you've had to sacrifice living them lately – because of my bad management. I shouldn't have put you in that position, and I'm sorry," he said.

"Its our job," Warrick reminded nonchalantly, he closed his locker.

"I know," Gil said, "anyway…who's up for breakfast?"

Warrick raised an eyebrow, "you payin'?"

Gil gave a short laugh, "I guess. You've all earned it."

It was less than half an hour later they were all seated at a table in a nearby diner, all somehow squeezed into one booth. It was strange to Gil that he found himself stuck between Sara and Catherine while Greg, Warrick and Nick all sat on the opposite side. He noted that Warrick had chosen to not even sit completely facing Catherine but rather facing Sara. Either Warrick was being uncharacteristically painfully shy, or he was making effort to keep Catherine from guessing he was her secret admirer.

Gil found it strange though that he could relate to what Warrick might have been going through, he knew those doubts that might have been pulsing through his mind. Gil, meanwhile, had decided to make a deliberate point of sitting directly next to Sara. He'd done this for more than one reason, but the main concern was that he did not want his friends…his team…to think he was uncomfortable being in Sara's company amongst them.

_They'll expect me to be_ _uncomfortable_, he decided. T_hey know me, they know I don't relate well to people, they'll be watching for any tiny little signs of my being uncomfortable in this relationship, and I'm not about to let them see it_, he thought.

The food came, a chaos of plate passing and condiment passing swept over the table.

Greg grinned from ear to ear as his food came, "this place serves the best pancakes," he shoved his fork into the stack of pancakes on his plate.

Sara looked up from her scrambled eggs and toast, "actually, y'know, Grissom makes pretty good pancakes," she admitted.

"You got pancakes?" Catherine leaned forwards to glance at Sara around Gil, who was sitting between them, "Must be love. Whenever I've been to his place for breakfast, all he serves me is cold toast and cheap coffee."  
"That's because A: You always invite yourself for breakfast, and B: cold toast and cheap coffee is the fastest way to make you leave," Gil smirked, "method to my madness."

Sara laughed softly.

"So anyway…" Nick paused to sip his coffee, "How long have you two—" he gestured to Gil and Sara, "been hiding this relationship behind our backs?" he asked. "How did this all start?"

"You don't want to hear that," Gil shook his head, the heat rising in his cheeks just a little.

"It's one of those things that's been building up for years," Sara responded.

"Now I know why you were all over Grissom when we went out that night," Nick laughed a little.

"Actually, it didn't really, uhm…take off until after that night," Gil put in quietly.

Sara picked up from where Gil left off, "It all really started when Greg sent me a card on Valentines day…anonymously. Somehow, Grissom managed to get his fingerprints on it, and when I got the card, I fingerprinted it because I wanted to find out who'd sent it…" she explained. "I thought it was Grissom, got the match on his prints and all…" she paused, "And…I wanted to believe it really was from him because…well…" she tried to look for the right words.

"You had the hots for bugman," Catherine chuckled.

Sara threw Catherine a look, but smiled slightly nonetheless. "Anyway, I'm sitting there in his car – he was driving me home. I brought up the card, and it came into the open that he didn't send the card, and that Greg did."

"And I still never got any 'thanks' by the way," Greg interjected.

Gil picked up now, "Sara insulted me, said I didn't have the balls to send her a valentines card, and…"

"He just shoots forward and kisses me…I think I saw stars," Sara admitted.

"The kiss was THAT good?" Catherine asked.

"You know, he acts like he's all reserved and calm all the time…but when he gets going, he can be a real tiger," Sara smirked.

"Now you're just bragging over breakfast," Catherine mused. "They say it's the quiet ones you should look out for."

Gil lowered his head in embarrassment, he pretended to take a sip of his coffee, he wished he could disappear into the cup.

"Anyway…" Sara continued, "after the kiss… somehow…it just…evolved from there…" she gave a grin.

"And here you are two months later, still together…" Nick finished off.

"No wonder Grissom's been actin' different since February," Warrick mused. "Getting' laid can change a man's life."

"He's not getting laid," Catherine responded, then her hand shot to her mouth, her eyes widened. "Uh…did I say that out loud?"

Gil lowered his head even more. _Let the grounds open up and swallow me up into the fiery abyss of Hell at this very moment_, he thought.

Everyone – save Gil – was staring at Catherine in an absurd state of shock. Gil meanwhile, glanced towards Sara, afraid what her reaction might be now that she knew Catherine had a pretty idea about their sex life – or lack thereof.

Sara's expression was clearly curious as to how Catherine would know such a thing, "how…?" she asked, her voice slight.

"Come on, you only have to look at the man. That expression there on his face right now is not the face of a man who's had sex recently," Catherine tried to quickly cover for herself.

"Thanks, Cath," Gil said, his voice slightly biting. He felt he might not have minded the subject so much had Nick, Greg and Warrick not been sitting there looking at him so completely bewildered. "Thanks for making fun. Big deal…I haven't had sex lately," he said defensively.

Then Greg said something that made Gil truly thankful to have his company today, "Join the club."

Everyone roared with laughter, except from Greg of course, who pretended to be slightly dejected about his comment. Even Gil found himself chuckling. The moment lightened, and everyone seemed to forget about the revelation that Gil and Sara weren't physically intimate in their relationship yet.. The conversation shifted, as it always did, to talk of work, and the case.

Time seemed to fly, but the conversation kept going, and the breakfast plates grew more and more empty.

Sara glanced at her watch some time later, "I gotta go," she said, "I have to be somewhere," she finished off the dregs of coffee from her second cup, and stood slowly, grabbing her jacket from the back of the bench where she'd left it. She slipped in awkwardly, trying not to swat Gil with her arm in the process.

Catherine slid out of the booth to let Gil out, so that Sara – who had been pinned at the end between Gil and the wall – could step out.

"Where are you going?" Gil asked, he hated the tone of his voice when he said it, somehow unintentionally he'd sounded so incredibly demanding.

Sara adjusted the collar of her jacket, pulling her hair out from beneath it, "doctors appointment," she shrugged, not seeming to take heed of the tone he'd used at all. "Want to do something tonight?" she asked.

Gil had to take a moment to remember that he and Sara shared their mutual night off tonight. "Yeah," he answered, "Uhm…why are you going to the doctors?" he asked in a very quiet tone, they were standing together, just a few feet away from the table.

Sara looked at him, "why?" she asked.

"I just…I wondered if something was wrong…" he said, looking at her very seriously.

"I'm going to get a prescription filled," Sara answered, "what are we doing tonight?" she asked.

Gil paused, "I don't know…go see a movie?"

"Last time I went to a movie with you, you didn't pay any attention to it," Sara reminded, she folded her arms with a smirk.

"Were you in the back row?" Warrick asked, he'd been eavesdropping.

Gil glanced over to Warrick with a warning glance, he turned his eyes deliberately towards Catherine when Warrick looked back at him so that Warrick got the message if he didn't behave, Catherine would soon enough find out who her secret admirer really was.

"Okay, uh…." Gil tried to think of another suggestion, but came up blank.

"We could go out for a few drinks?" Sara suggested.

Gil perhaps responded too quickly to this, "Actually, uh…lets not. Listen, I'll come by, I'll bring some DVDs, how's that sound?"

"Fine I guess," Sara dropped her folded arms, "I better go…"

"Let me walk you to your car," Gil offered.

"Nah, it's okay, stay and drink your coffee," Sara smiled.

Gil stepped forward, intent on kissing her on the forehead, his favourite method of goodbye. but suddenly he was painfully aware that the others at the table had grown silent, and he turned to see that they were all watching him and Sara.

Uncomfortable, he didn't want to even attempt to kiss Sara's head in front of them, knowing the amount of teasing he'd receive. On the other hand, he didn't want to not kiss her because he knew that would be showing how uncomfortable he was being romantic in front of the others.

And then it occurred to him to be even more spontaneous. He stepped closer, his hands finding her arms, and he leaned in, as if he were about to kiss her head, but then took the plunge and pressed his mouth against hers in a passionate goodbye kiss that even left Sara a little surprised.

"Wow…it's like…seeing your parents having sex or something," Nick uttered.

Gil stepped back from Sara, he saw her blink in astonishment, he could tell her next words wanted to be '_did you really just do that in front of everyone_?'. "See you tonight," Gil promised, "around seven," he kissed her forehead.

Sara gave a vague nod, a slight laugh in disbelief, and then turned and walked away shaking her head at him pleasantly.

Gil turned back to the table, Catherine, Warrick, Nick and Greg were all looking at him in the same astonishment Sara seemed to be in. "Something wrong?" he asked, trying to be as innocent as possible. He certainly hoped he wasn't blushing at this very moment.

"Nothing…" Catherine shook his head, "nothing at all."

* * *

I know, I'll probably get complaints for putting up another rather blah chapter. I just felt it was important at this stage to have a bit of Gil and Sara's relationship exposed to the rest of the team, lol.

Thanks to the people who keep reviewing (I'll mention your names in the next chapter).


	50. Chapter 50: Revisiting an Old Friend

**Chapter 50**

**Revisiting an Old Friend**

* * *

"You kissed me in front of the whole team," was the very first thing Gil heard from Sara when she opened the door to him later that night. Without so much as a hello, she looked at him, for a moment, he couldn't read her expression.

"Uh, is that a bad thing?" he asked concernedly, he stood there outside in the hall holding a bag of rented DVDs.

Sara gestured for him to come in, "no, it just surprised me that's all," she confessed, "impressed me too. Normally you're so uncomfortable even holding my hand in public," she smirked. "That wasn't some overcompensating just because the whole team was watching, was it?"

Gil hesitated, "Of course not…" he stepped in, he handed her the bag of DVDs, kissed her forehead, watched her close the door and then followed her to the living room.

"Which loosely translated means…" she faked a cough while uttering the word "bullshit."

Gil looked away from her, a smile playing about his lips. _Damn, she's good at reading me. Better than I thought she was_, he thought.

Sara wandered over to the kitchen, "have you eaten yet?" she asked, "I could cook."

"By cook do you mean actually throw something in a pot and put heat to it, or do you mean that you have at least three take out places on your speed dial?" he teased.

"The latter, of course," Sara leaned over the counter to look at him, "we established, you're the cook, I'm the take out queen."

"Take out is fine," he assured.

"Pizza?" she asked.

"Whatever twirls your beanie," he responded casually, he took his jacket off and hung it up on the end of the room divider. He walked around the living room, examining how tidy everything was. She'd cleaned, and recently. He could smell furniture polish in the air and something else…the smell of burning incense hung in the air, sweet and hazy. A single decorative candle was sitting atop the TV in a frosted glass stand. It was lit, and the light flickered softly in response to a breeze coming through the open window across the room.

"What do you like on pizza?" she was hitting the speed dial numbers on her phone, and raising the receiver to her ear.

"Whatever you're having," he answered. Honestly, he wasn't in the mood to be picking what food he wanted to eat tonight. For some reason, he hadn't even been in the mood when standing trying to pick movies in the rental place either.

"I'm a vegetarian," she reminded.

"I know," Gil moved over to the desk to pick up a pile of CDs and flick through them casually, trying to keep himself occupied while she was ordering pizza over the phone. He wandered more, aimlessly looking over everything. Taking in the little things she owned to try and find out more about her.

In his wanderings, he found himself near her bedroom door, which hung halfway open. He pushed it a little and gazed in. He didn't think she'd mind, he'd been in there before.

A familiar sight hanging on the closet door caught his eye at once. That purple satin bra of hers, hanging by its strap on the door knob. Images of how she'd looked in that very garment flashed back into his mind with a vengeance. This particular bra, the only one he'd ever seen her wearing, made him feel something of a nostalgia, and he had to laugh at himself for being so particularly fond of the garment right then despite its ridiculously vivid colour and its simplicity.

He was half tempted to pick it up just to caress the silky fabric, but it was so inappropriate, and he could almost imagine the look of shock on her face if she should walk into her bedroom and find him standing fondling her underwear. He left it alone, and wandered to the window to gaze outside. Sun was still setting, bathing everything outside in a warm orange glow.

Gil took one more moment to glance around the room, and when he turned to head towards the door, he found Sara standing there, looking at him most curiously.

"What are you doing sneaking around in my bedroom?" Sara asked.

"Sorry," Gil said, "I was, uh…" he looked around trying to find an excuse, but after finding none, he decided to try to joke about what he'd been doing, "revisiting an old friend," he gestured to the bra hanging on the closet door.

Sara laughed, her eyes glittering, "I forgot. That's the bra that was hanging up on the room divider that one time you came over for breakfast."

"Yes, it is," Gil looked at her, he was waiting for her to remind him it was also the bra she had wore that night they had very nearly taken their relationship to very physical levels. She said nothing, he ached to say it, but felt that shyness come over again.

"Pizza should be here in half an hour…" she leaned against the threshold, arms folded casually.

Gil glanced towards the bra again, he just couldn't help himself, now finding he had the most absurd fascination with it. _No, stop staring at it. She's going to notice and that's going to just embarrass you when she makes fun of the fact, _he thought at himself. _Stop staring before she notices!_

"You like purple?" Sara asked casually.

_Too late! Too late! Too late!_ His thoughts screamed menacingly at him like a warning signal. "Sorry," he tried to settle himself quickly, "It's, an, uhm….very…uh…" he coughed trying to buy himself more time, "uhm…interesting colour," was all he could manage.

Sara laughed, "sorry, I'm just teasing."

"It's okay. I can understand the temptation," he glanced towards the bra again, he couldn't help it, it was just a strange impulse that he'd never be able to explain even to himself. Again, the images of how she'd looked in it popped into his mind, as well as the memory of how silky her skin had felt against his bare fingers, against his tongue. He felt the very familiar stirring south of his belt, and he tried to force the images out of his mind. The last thing he needed was for his arousal to become painfully obvious even to Sara.

Sara stepped in, she picked the bra up, "maybe I should just put this away…" she smirked. "Will you go and open the bottle of wine? I kind of broke the cork."

"Okay," he shrugged. He wished she hadn't thought to open a bottle of wine at all. He really wanted no more alcohol near her, and he felt guilty that he couldn't seem to keep her away from it, and that in some way, he had no right to tell her she couldn't drink.

He spent some moments in the kitchen trying to open the wine, somehow managing in the end. Already two glasses had been set out on the counter, and he filled them. He wondered what could possibly be taking her so long, but when she returned to the living room with her hair in a ponytail – different from how it had been when he'd first entered the apartment – he realised at once she'd been arranging her hair.

"Get the wine open?" Sara asked.

"Yep," he moved over and handed her a glass, "how was your appointment at the doctors?" he asked.

"It was…fine," Sara looked at him suspicious.

"What prescription were you having filled out, anyway?" he asked curiously.

"We are nosy today, aren't we," Sara remarked, she sipped her wine.

"I'm not nosy, I'm just…concerned," he replied.

Sara just fell silent, she stood sipping her wine.

"Are you using birth control?"

Sara nearly choked on her wine, she had to put the glass down and she coughed a little, before speaking, "excuse me?"

"I thought I saw birth control in your bathroom once," he shrugged.

"I knew you were raking through my stuff in that bathroom," Sara made a face, "I just didn't think you had found that."

"So you are then?"

"You already know the answer, so why even ask?" Sara shot, "and yes…that is what I was getting today, if that was your angle."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," he took a sip of his own wine, still the question of why she had been using them previously when she'd been single for so long came up. The obvious answer seemed to be that at some point, she'd been having sex with someone else before they'd ever gotten together. A jealous nerve twitched deep within him, despite how incredibly irrelevant it seemed.

"You have that look on your face," Sara picked up the bag of DVDs she'd discarded on her coffee table, and she picked one out, not caring what it was, she opened the yellow case it had come in and moved over to the DVD player to put it in.

"What look?" he asked.

"That you're thinking about something," Sara responded, she placed the DVD in and hit the close button on the player to shut the tray. "So come on, what's wrong now?"

"Why are you on birth control when…you're not having sex?" he asked.

"You don't want the subject to come up, Grissom, believe me," Sara responded sharply, she pretended to be much more preoccupied with the DVD player than she actually was just to avoid looking at him.

"You think I can't handle knowing."

"It helps regulate my period."

Gil was right, he didn't want the subject to come up. As much as he knew about the physiology of the female body, he just didn't want to get into that discussion with her.

The conversation was dropped instantly. Gil sat down slowly on the couch, silent, save for the biggest and deepest sigh. He felt so incredibly stupid. Sara stood, picking up the DVD remote from the top of the television, she placed it on the coffee table and moved over to get her wine from where she'd left it.

Gil watched her, he couldn't believe he'd overreacted over something so insignificant. _See, this is one of those things that you might have learned years ago had you actually let yourself form relationships,_ he told himself in thought. _Whole thing could have been avoided so easily if you'd actually let yourself experience anything at all in life._

Sara moved over, she stood by the TV, sipping her wine, looking at him, remaining rather silent. She was studying him over the rim of her glass, reading him. Gil could tell she could see how incredibly foolish he felt.

Sighing, she put her glass down on the coffee table, "Look, it's not that big a deal," she admitted.

"I basically made something out of nothing," he shrugged, he was sitting on the edge of the seat with his hands on his knees.

Sara moved towards him, standing looking down over him incredibly close, "it happens, we all do it at some stage. We all freak every now and then without meaning to," she picked a piece of lint off of the shoulder of his shirt.

Gil looked up at her, "I don't deserve you, you know that, don't you?" he asked.

Sara gave a slight laugh, "sometimes I feel the same about you," she placed her hand behind his head and brought him close to her so that his face was against her stomach, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He hugged her hips, hands just landing on the small of her back. "I don't just feel this," he murmured, "I know it."

* * *

And yet, the third blah chapter in a row I think, but it sets up the next chapter (I promise).

Anyway, reviewers, my lovely, wonderful reviewers who make my day every fucking single beautiful wonderful day with their words:

NimrodDuckie, tarrabeena, Aidrianna, CSIfreak92, saramakinson, csigirl46, Hope, Ambient Flames, CSICubsFan, Erlina Silverstra, kristy87, jtbwriter, Piper135, Ahn-Li Stefferaini, Niebezpiczny Ksiezyc, and djkittycat.

NimrodDuckie: How is this for updating? 5 mins after you basically reviewed chapter 49 ;) LOL. Am I your number one favourite updater yet or what:)

CSIfreak92: in the show, who knows whether Grissom really does sleep naked or not. In my story he does. And yes, I am actually sick and twisted (and after having like 40 reviews asking when Sara and Gil will have sex in this story, I realise I might not be the only one:D )

Ambient Flames: thanks for worshipping the story - it's so not worth of it though, lol.

kristy87: Where would I be without you to talk to every day? LOL. Who else would I share my spoilers with?

jtbwriter: You always ask "now what?". I'm always tempted to give an answer to that, but for now I just can't come up with one! (j/k lol).

Piper135: Yes, it is indeed Samuel Barber's Adagio for strings, I was listening to it as I wrote the scene. I love that track too.Glad you like it too :)


	51. Chapter 51: Control

**Chapter 51**

**Control**

* * *

****

After the pizza was gone, the wine bottle drained, and the first movie had finished, the mood in the room was definitely somewhat lighter. Settled back against the couch, one arm around her, Gil's mind was relaxed and content once again. The embarrassment of bringing up the subject of her prescription earlier still bothered him, but for the best part he was able to shove it out of his mind whenever it came back to haunt him.

Right in that moment, having Sara curled up against him felt incredibly good, her arm draped over him, her head against his chest and her hair so near to his face that it was so easy to lean in and breathe in the smell of her rosehip shampoo whenever he wished. He'd become quite fond of that scent.

"Ever seen this movie before?" Sara asked.

The movie Gil had brought along was Red Dragon. He'd read the book twice back in his younger days, but had never seen the movie before. It had been something he'd been contemplating renting for a while now. "I read the book a couple of times. Didn't see the movie though."

"I saw the original movie…" Sara said, "I think it was called 'Manhunter'."

"Was that any good?" he asked.

"Actually, I'm beginning to think the original was better than this," Sara confessed, "it's still an okay movie but…I don't know, they say the original movies are far superior to the modern remakes. I kind of agree."

"The book is always better," Gil shrugged, he kissed her hair affectionately, and smiled as she curled closer to him.

It was as he looked down at her that he noticed the collar of her t-shirt had slightly been tugged to the side by the position she was leaning against him, so that it revealed her shoulder, and the strap of her bra. At first it didn't register, the room was dark save the flickering light of the TV screen. But it was that very light which caught the shiny fabric of the satin strap which made him realize what bra she was wearing.

_Oh…my…god_, he thought, his breath catching in his throat. He realised now why she'd taken so long in the bedroom while he'd been trying to get the cork out of the neck of the wine bottle. She'd changed into the bra. He wasn't sure what to think about this. Why would she do such a thing? Either she hadn't been wearing a bra at all when he'd come and she'd decided to put it on while she had a free moment…or…she'd done it deliberately.

And if she'd done it deliberately…

He exhaled a slow steady breath, staring at that strap, still fascinated, the images of her out of that T-shirt began to play in his mind. He felt the physical aches of need beginning to surface. He found himself trying to calculate the last time he'd actually made love with any woman and came up with a blank. Right now, concentrating just wasn't possible, not when she was leaning against him, not when she was wearing that particular bra. Not when her breast was pressed into his side…beneath that satin purple bra.

He just had to touch that bra, just as if to confirm that it really was there, that he just wasn't imagining it was that particular bra out of a strange obsession from seeing her wear it once before. Awkwardly, he put his hand at the top of her arm just beneath her shoulder, squeezing it affectionately, he kissed her hair again, his eyes never leaving that satiny purple strap which caught the light from the TV so wonderfully, making it almost shimmer. With his thumb, he deliberately brushed past the cottony material of her t-shirt to caress her bare shoulder, and the strap itself.

The ache came again, more powerful, and he hoped to god that the light from the TV might be playing shadows on him, he did not want her to see how aroused he was becoming, and he was beginning to realize it would soon become more than devastatingly obvious.

Sara shivered at his touch, trying to get comfortable she shifted her position a little, craning her head a little to the side, it falling just below Gil's view.

Gil swallowed, he remembered the taste of her skin, the texture, the way he'd felt her pulse throb beneath the flesh. He let his hand travel up her shoulder a little so that his thumb could brush the side of her neck. She shivered again under his caress.

"That tickles," she murmured, her eyes never leaving the television screen.

"Sorry, wasn't meant to," he slid his hand up her neck very lightly until he was cupping the left side of her jaw, he caressed her cheek with his thumb.

This caused Sara to lean up and turn to him, looking at him with a mild curiosity as if to ask what he thought he was doing, but there was nothing in her expression that seemed to object to his touching either.

Gil took this moment to kiss the right side of her jaw, he still kept his hand on the left side, as if to hold her in place should she try to move away. His lips traveled down her jaw to her neck. He heard her breathing in sharply at this, she had her hands against his chest, and she was slowly and steadily shifting so that she was kneeling on the couch beside him.

He parted his lips a little to suckle on the supple skin of her throat, his arms sliding around her slim waist, she let out the tiniest little "oh," in a soft moan that. Her breathing had quickened, he could hear it, and feel the excited rhythm of her pulse under that skin his lips and tongue were so fondly savoring.

Gil had to maneuver awkwardly to get her down on the couch, her head was ever so slightly hanging off the end where there were no arm rests, her neck dipped backwards giving him more access to her throat and collarbone, he kissed along every inch of her neck, he stifled a moan into her neck as he accidentally pushed too hard against her, the pleasure and pain he felt pressed beneath the confines of his jeans was strangely more vivid than he'd ever felt before.

He found her lips and kissed her deeply, in unison their mouths parting and tongues played a carnal tango, the taste of wine strong, lips moving in harmony. It was strange this time he did not feel as nervous as the first time, although this time was sure to go even further. There were no fire alarms here to disrupt them.

Gil tried to think ahead, although it was quite difficult to think at all when she was kissing him this way, her hands were now up his back beneath his shirt, she was making it quite difficult for him to think of anything else but those hands roaming his body.

_Quick, think. What could possibly go wrong right now?_ He asked himself. Then it came to him. _Work could call wanting me to come in to examine a body…Catherine could call asking where I put a file..._

He reached into his pants pocket awkwardly trying to maintain his concentration on the kiss, he yanked out his cellular phone and held it close his face, he cracked one eye open whilst he continued to kiss Sara, so he could find the off button easily, he switched it off and tossed it to the floor in reckless abandon.

Sara heard the thud of the phone hit the floor, and pulled her lips from his, "what was that?" she asked breathless.

"My phone," he answered, and silenced her with more deep kisses. His hands found the hem of her t-shirt and he inched it up moment by moaning, letting his thumbs grace her stomach. He felt her twitch and buck her hips up in response to his ticklish touch. Her pressing against him felt more than wonderful, despite it reminded him of how completely uncomfortable it was for him in the jeans he'd chosen to wear.

The couch was becoming a nuisance too now, there was barely enough room to move on, and he was afraid that one wrong move might send him and Sara tumbling over the edge and thudding to the floor between the couch and the coffee table.

_How far is this going to go?_ He wondered. _Should I mention the bedroom? Should I just pick her up and take her there, or should I wait to see where she wants to take it before asking? Oh god, I don't know how much more of this I can take_…

Gil finally broke the kiss, their breathing heavy, hearts beating rapidly, he kissed her neck again, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, contemplating taking the thing off of her completely. His eyes glanced towards the television, he couldn't do this in front of the television, on this couch. He found himself wishing they were still in that hotel suite in Edinburgh, that had been a perfect romantic setting for such an intimate moment.

_This isn't working, he thought. I can't do this here, not in front of the TV with Edward Norton and Ralph Fiennes on the screen_…

It seemed far too perverse to go any further in front of a movie about a serial killer – however fitting it was that he and Sara were both criminalists.

Sara's lips were now on his neck. He had to resist the urge to moan. Every sense was heightened by the pinnacle of his arousal. She bit down softly, which left him with incontrollable shudders of pleasure and the slight tinge of pain, a combination which went together wonderfully.

Finally, he allowed himself to moan one word. The one word that had been playing on his mind for the last few minutes, "bedroom."

Sara stopped instantly, pushing him up a little so she could look at him, look into his eyes, her gaze questioning. She licked her lips a little then bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes searching his for some kind of answer to a question she hadn't asked. Finally, she murmured, "okay."

Getting up, and walking to the bedroom was far harder than Gil had thought it might be. He had the strange sense of walking to his doom, that this was definitely the point of no return, there was no turning back, there would be no interruptions. They were totally and utterly alone. And they would make love. No question in his mind about it anymore.

She walked backwards, guiding the way, holding his hands to lead him in, they shared three kisses on the way, Gil let go of her hand to switch the light on the wall off so that the room was plunged into an almost darkness, save whatever light might seep in from the streets outside.

Sara slipped off her t-shirt and discarded it, standing there looking at him, as if to wait for some kind of response.

Gil stood for one moment, examining her in the vague light that was left in the room. He could see her well enough to still make out the plunge of her cleavage and the shimmer of the satiny material.

He moved towards her, taking her in his arms to kiss her again, they stood kissing passionately for several moments before making it to the bed. He trailed kisses down her upper chest, and just above the plunge of her cleavage.

This is where we were the last time before the fire alarms went off, he thought, he ran his hands up her sides. He tentatively moved his hands up to her breasts, cupping the mounds, savoring the satiny fabric beneath his fingers. He was almost sent over the edge by this.

_Control, keep control. You're no good to her if you lose it now_, he told himself firmly in thought. He felt her removing his shirt. Something in him wanted to resist that, perhaps the fear that one single touch from her might be more than he could bear. He slid his hands beneath her back, trying to release her from the bra, and still struggling as much as he had done that first night in Edinburgh.

His shirt became discarded, her fingers trailed along his chest, he trembled, his breathing quickened more, heartbeat loud and furious within his chest now. Below his belt he was throbbing painfully, he couldn't take it anymore.

Her fingers danced down his stomach, his breath came out an uneven whisper, they went lower, to fumble with the buckle of his belt first, and then with the button of his jeans…and then the zipper.

Gil closed his eyes tightly, her hand skimmed his boxers, and he was so sure that if she went any further that it would all be over. He grabbed her wrists and pinned her down, he couldn't allow her to touch him just yet, his excitement was too close to the line bordering on climax.

He had her right where he wanted her, and she was unable to move an inch pinned there. She didn't seem jarred by this, in fact if anything, there was a hungry look in her eyes, which told him that being pinned down in such a way might have been one of her secret fantasies. He had to admit, pinning her this way was pretty close to one of his own.

He kissed her softly, tenderly, being slow and lingering with this, giving himself time to wind down his arousal enough that the slightest touch wasn't going to send him over the edge.

Finally, when he felt the tension ease in himself, he let go of her wrists, and slid his hands beneath her to try again with her bra. This time it unclasped easily, and just as he'd managed to remove it, he felt her touch him beneath is boxers. He moaned low in his throat as she did so. Her caresses made him feel as if his body were alive with electricity, he was tingling all over. Her touch awakened every little sense within him, every hair on his body seemed to stand to attention and feel the caress of cool air from the open window.

Gil breathed "go slow," near her ear softly, then he bent down to kiss her breasts,

his hands cupped the soft supple mounds. His thumbs brushed her sensitive nipples, he heard her moan throatily in response. He let his lips graze her left nipple, and her touch on him tightened in response.

Next he began unbuttoning her jeans, and when finally the button and zip were undone, he slowly slid them down her narrow hips, letting his thumbs brush against her thighs as he done so.

Sara's jeans were discarded, as well as his, and his underwear, which now he felt terribly exposed without. He moved up and kissed her again to keep her attention, he couldn't bear the thought of her looking at him naked just yet.

Her hand was working steadily and slowly along his length, and he was furiously trying to not let himself be overwhelmed, he'd spent years fantasizing about this moment, and he wasn't about to let the fantasy be his undoing.

His fingers danced down her flat stomach to over her underwear – they too, were Satin. He pressed his fingers to where she needed him to most, and she moaned into his mouth. The fabric was moist, and warm, alerting him to her arousal. He slid his fingers beneath the fabric to caress her more intimately, she squirmed slightly against his hand, incredibly stirred by his touch.

He ended the kiss, sucked softly on her bottom lip for a moment, then moved to whisper near her ear, "Sara…" he was breathless, his heart beating faster than ever, "I need..." he began, but he wasn't sure he could quite finish the sentence.

Sara nodded, "it's okay…" she whispered, she pecked his lips before leaning over to the cabinet on the right side of the bed to open a drawer and pull out the appropriate item he needed. As they kissed softly, she opened the packet to put it on him, never for a moment, finding it awkward, nor unromantic that he'd chosen to ask in the first place.

It was time to take it further, they'd both waited long enough, and this moment was theirs for the taking. He slid her underwear off slowly, trying to maintain their loving kisses without breaking concentration. He climbed between her legs, her arms encircled him and he guided himself to her, trying to maintain that same level of control he'd felt when she'd first touched him.

Gil wouldn't ever be able to explain the incredible solace he felt the moment they united as he moved forward to meet her to the hilt. He'd known if it weren't for the sheath around him, he might have been brought over right then, the intensity of the moment, being against her, being within her. It was almost more than he could stand.

Everything at that moment seemed to fall in to place and make sense. Nothing felt more right than making love with Sara. Despite the normality of the evening, there couldn't have been a more perfect moment, and a more perfect place.

The rhythm between them remained steady, rolling their hips against each others in perfect unison, sharing soft tender kisses as their hands roamed bare skin in soft caresses. It felt like more than sex…more than making love and more than just the next step in their relationship.

Gil had never felt so complete in all his life, the puzzle he'd claimed to be had found the rest of the missing pieces and it was Sara who had them all. Somewhere in his mind he'd always wondered if the love he felt could have been mistaken for something else. If this feeling now, this incredible emotional and physical experience wasn't love, then he didn't want to know what it was.

Sara was the first to be brought over, Gil felt the spasms around him and her moans became indescribably louder than he'd thought they could ever be. The sound of her, and the sensations of her was what finally brought him to climax too. He wasn't sure if he made any noise at all, the raw pleasure that rushed through every nerve seemed to drown out everything from the sounds in the room to the warmth of her body.

Drained, but fulfilled, he withdrew, lying against her in the dark, his cheek against her left breast, her arms around her. The familiar fatigue that always seemed to follow after love-making began to tug at his senses, and he closed his eyes. He felt her kiss his hair before he slipped into a content, dreamless sleep.

* * *

This chapter was probably not so blah for some of you. Whilst some others might be disturbed, I don't know. I tried to make it as incredibly non perverse as possible...hope it worked.

You have NO idea how hard this chapter was to write by the way (for those of you who thought I might sit here giggling like a maniac trying to write sex scenes, I didn't with this one, I took it really seriously).

I'll mention the lovely people who reviewed in the next chapter.

Do I get a break yet?

SS


	52. Chapter 52: Sunshine and Smiles

**Chapter 52**

**Sunshine and Smiles**

* * *

When Gil woke up from the best sleep he'd had in years, sunlight had already long since poured into the room, everything was bright, and fresh, and even though he was familiar with Sara's bedroom now, everything seemed brand new, as if he'd opened his eyes for the very first time.

He was stretched out on his back, and he turned his head slightly to see Sara sitting there, elbow propped on the pillows, cheek in hand. She was watching him so intently, as he realised she probably had been doing for some time now.

It had been a long time since he'd seen Sara smile in the way she was smiling now, it was so stretched from ear to ear and bordering almost on completely goofy that Gil had to give a soft laugh to see it.

"Morning," he yawned, he stretched a little, the bed sheets felt cool and soothing against his warm skin.

"Morning," Sara responded softly, she lay her arm on the pillow and rest her cheek against it, eyes never leaving his.

Neither of them said anything for several minutes, they just lay looking at each other, Sara just seemed so completely fascinated by him and he just couldn't help but be lost in her beauty, bathed in the natural light of morning.

Sara grinned again, it seemed to take years off her age, reminding him of her younger self back when he'd first met her all those years ago.

Gil tried not to laugh, he wasn't sure if it was at Sara's goofy grin or at the absurdity that he was lying in bed with her completely naked, after having had the best sex he'd ever had in his fifty years on the planet. It wasn't that the latter was hilarious, but this kind of thing was just so completely unlike him, and his heart was so light that he couldn't help but be touched by laughter inside. It broke free.

"What's funny?" Sara asked curiously.

"I don't know…everything," Gil shook his head at himself, he stared up to the ceiling absently, "the way you're smiling – like you slept with a coat-hanger in your mouth…the fact that I'm here in your bed…the fact that…last night was…just…" he couldn't even find words to describe it.

"Last night was…" she trailed off, "I can't even find a way to say it, it was just…wow."

He smirked, "yes, it was…"

Sara lay there, still watching him, "you never cease to surprise me," she admitted.

"How so?" he scratched his head absently.

"You're so shy, and then…wow…" she shook her head, still in disbelief at the events of the night before, "I always thought if we were ever going to get to this point, it'd be because I had to initiate it…but…you just…really took control of the whole thing…"

He raised an eyebrow.

"You pinned me down…you literally had me pinned, I couldn't move at all!" she said with a laugh, "do you know…incredibly…" she faltered, trying to find the words, her eyes were laughing, "overassertive you were?" she asked.

"I wasn't overassertive," he made a face.

"Yes you were," Sara grinned, "and I'm still blown away by that," she leaned over to kiss his chin.

Gil laughed, "you know, I always thought when we…got to this point," he used her term, "that it'd be the other way around, that you'd be the – as you put it – 'overassertive' one."

Sara grinned, "usually I am. I don't know if it's being with you that just made me completely weak…" she slid over to lay against him, beneath the covers he felt the warmth of her bare skin against him.

She lay her head against his shoulder, and placed her hand on his chest, fingers dancing absently across his skin.

Gil gazed down at her hand, something caught his eye on the underside of her wrist. "What the…" he mumbled to himself, he took hold of her hand and raised it up to the light so he could examine the wrist more easily.

_Is…that what I think it is_? He thought.

He felt horrified immediately as he recognized what the mark on her wrist was. He sat up instantly, which threw her more or less off him, "did I do that?" he asked, his voice high, immediately full of concern.

"Huh?" she asked, totally confused as to why he'd thrown her off at all.

"Your wrist…there's bruising…" he could feel his heart beginning race, and his breath beginning to catch in his throat.

Sara shrugged, "so?"

"So I bruised you…I bruised you…I left marks on you…" he was trying to remain calm, but was failing miserably. He didn't understand how he could have held her wrist so tightly to bruise her without even realizing his own strength.

"It doesn't hurt," Sara touched the bruises nonchalantly.

"That's not the point…" Gil put his hands to his face, "Oh my god, I don't believe this…" his breathing becoming faster still. His blood ran cold, his lips trembled, he was shaking.

_I hurt her…I hurt her so much it bruised…_

"Don't you dare freak out," Sara came up behind him, she held his shoulders, "come on, it's not that big a deal, so you bruised me. I scratched you with my nails right on your back when you were on me," she confessed, "injuries happen. It wasn't like they were meant."

"No, you don't get this," he said, his sentence breaking as he tried to catch his breath, "I hurt the only person I love! Unintentionally!" he hunched over, it was becoming more and more difficult to breathe.

Sara massaged his shoulders, "deep breaths," she instructed.

He tried to breathe deeply, but it seemed so impossible when he'd just discovered he'd left marks on her. He'd seen those same marks all the time on women throughout his career, most of them lying dead on a slab in the morgue. Victims of domestic abuse, victims of rape, women who's been held down so tightly they couldn't move.

Just like he'd held Sara last night.

_Could I have misinterpreted the whole thing? I thought I saw pleasure on her face…Did she like it though? Did she really, or am I just…imagining she liked it because I wanted her to, because it was a sick little fantasy I've had ever since she asked me to pin her down to demonstrate a theory during a case_? _Was it possible she was scared? Would she have told me if she was? Would she have struggled if she was? _

He felt Sara embrace him from behind, pulling him up so that he straightened his position. "Deep slow breaths," she murmured near his ear

He tried to gain control of his breathing, the room felt like it might be spinning around him, his face was tingling, and his hands were growing cold and numb, he couldn't bend his fingers.

Logically he knew what was happening. The words _anxiety attack_ flashed through his mind in dangerous red letters. At the same time, he felt like he might die from this, as illogical as he knew it was. He felt weakened, and his body was trying to slump forward against his will, whilst Sara held him back so he was straightened, her arms gripping around his shoulders strong enough to keep him supported, but loose enough to not restrict his breathing.

Sara pressed her whole body against his back, "breathe in, and out," she said softly. "Come on…you didn't mean it, it didn't hurt, and everything is fine…"

He could feel her body swell behind him as she breathed, he tried to desperately match her rhythm.

"In…out…in…out," she commanded him to breathe, she was breathing slowly with him,

It slowly started to pass, Gil the tension beginning to release slowly, his hands were tingling at first, and slowly, beginning to gain some feeling. Sara leaned back into the pillows, pulling him back with her so he lay against her, he felt her bare thighs against waist, her ankles brushing his thighs. She was stroking his hair now, soothingly.

"You okay?" she murmured finally, once his breathing had slowed enough for him to relax against her.

"No…" he murmured. "How can I be okay…?" he asked in a hollow tone.

"Gil, this is not that big of a deal…"

"Not to you, but it is to me," he got up, "Listen, I need to go…"

"You're leaving?" Sara asked, she watched him slide to the edge of the bed, trying to remain as covered as possible, he grabbed his underwear and somehow without even getting up out from under the covers, he pulled them on, he then stood and stepped into his jeans, grabbed his shirt, and pulled it on.

"I gotta go," he said, "I just…I have to…"

"Oh…" Sara looked confused and hurt.

He saw that look in her face and felt the guilt teeming through him, "it's not you, okay?" he asked softly, "it's me…I just…I need some time alone…"

"Okay…" she drew her breath, "I…I'll see you at work?"

"Of course," he nodded, he leaned down to kiss her forehead before leaving her alone. His mind a whirling chaos of confusion. Questions he'd never asked himself beginning to pop into his mind.

_Am I violent? If I left bruises on her…I must be…_

* * *

Okay, so the chapter name was deceptive...and I'll probably get flamed now for ruining the romance so quickly. When inspiration takes you though, you have to write it...

Anyway, thanks to the following people for reviewing :)

c.roy, Tracy, CookieK2, MissAmanda, wandaa, CSIfreak92, Samantha, Oneillite, kristy87, Ambientl Flames, jtbwriter, sarahmakinson, luckyladyinlace, Aidrianna, Niebezpiczny Ksiezyc, Wishing on the Moon, XakliaAeryn, lunar47, Woody27, Erlina Silverstra

I think thats you all, if I've missed anyone out I'm sorry :P

SS


	53. Chapter 53: Bruise

**Chapter 53**

**Bruise**

* * *

****

Gil couldn't face what had happened that morning, and by the early afternoon, it had begun to consume him completely, driving him into an abyss of depression and guilt. There had only ever been one time he'd felt so bad, and it was when he'd been working on the Debbie Marlin case.

He paced frantically around the house, trying to burn up the nervous energy that kept building up from this anger he felt with himself. To try and keep himself occupied, he moved from room to room, rearranging furniture that normally he preferred to be left in it's certain place. He felt like a timebomb that might go off if he stopped for one second to ask himself what was going on.

Despite his best attempts, his mind wouldn't leave the subject alone of this morning alone. He kept picturing the bruises on Sara's wrists, and inadvertantly comparing those bruises to what he'd seen on the number of victims he'd seen through the years.

It was something his mind just couldn't leave alone now. Not only had he hurt Sara unintentionally but he was beginning to lose any trust he had for himself. There were men like him who were just as normal, and painfully shy who one day just lost it completely to go too far – which was the reason some of those bruised victims he'd seen had ended up on a slab in the morgue.

Gil hated how his mind kept running away from him with visions of what might happen if he should go too far. Disturbing images ran through his head of situations he was afraid might happen, even when his mind was logically telling him there was no way it ever would.

He knew he was overreacting. It occurred to him more than once. Sara wasn't mad. How could she be mad when she'd woken up looking so incredibly happy – her smile the widest he'd ever seen? Why would she sit behind him and help him through a severe anxiety attack if she was angry he'd left a bruise on her wrist?

She isn't mad at me. I'm mad at me, he thought. I'm finding all these things out about myself, like I can be so much more different than I thought I was, and while I'm finding me I'm not liking all that I find, he thought. He was pacing across his living room looking for something to move, something to shift, something to focus his attention on.

The phone rang, and he chose not to answer it. He didn't care if it was work, he didn't care if it was Catherine, and if it was Sara, he wasn't sure he could speak to her just yet. He wasn't sure he was emotionally ready to deal with hearing her voice, telling him it was okay when his heart was telling him it wasn't.

After the sixth ring, the answering machine picked up.

_"Hey, you've reached the phone of Gil Grissom, leave a message after the beep,"_ he heard his own voice announce on the phone. His voice on the message was very monotone, and he sounded almost like a stranger to himself.

The beep came, and then Sara's voice.

_"It's me…" _she said, _"I know you're there…and I know you're probably still freaking. Just pick up…I really need to speak with you…"_

He stood, listening to her, swallowing a lump that had grown in his throat.

Sara paused on the line, then spoke again, _"Please…just pick up…it's important."_

Gil stood facing the wall, staring into space, hearing her words and at the same time not really hearing them at all.

_"I think I know why bruising me bothered you…there are two reasons I can think of…"_ Sara continued, she gave a deep sigh, _"I just don't know which reason is true though. One of those reasons…is something I don't even think you knew about, and if you do know…" _she trailed off, _"god, I don't know. I feel so stupid here sitting on the phone talking to your answering machine…"_

Gil turned and stared at the phone blankly, "what don't I know?" he asked the phone, aware of course that Sara on the line wouldn't hear it at all, but feeling much better for speaking out loud as if it was solace just to hear his own voice again.

_"We really need to talk, Gil…please…just pick up…"_

Gil moved over to the phone, and he reached out to pick it up, but faltered, he just couldn't. He wasn't sure what he might say.

Not getting an answer, Sara seemed intent on continuing to talk until the tape in the machine ran out, _"Last night…you know last night was…God, I mean have you any idea how much last night means to me? How much does it mean to you, Gil? Last night, we made a connection, a real connection, and when we woke up, we were so happy. I'm still happy…but I'm scared, because I saw the look on your face and you were scared about something…I just need to know what."_

He couldn't stand it anymore. Gil drew his breath and picked up the phone, "Sara…" he said, his voice very shaky, he sat down on the floor by the table, he couldn't find anything to say to her to explain himself.

"Are you okay?" she asked at once.

"I honestly don't know," he responded, he let his back rest against the couch. His emotions were riding a virtual rollercoaster of ups and downs, it felt good to be speaking to her, to be hearing her voice, but at the same time, it felt terribly wrong after the incident this morning.

"What happened, Gil…?" Sara asked, she sounded so incredibly hurt still. It pained him to hear her sound this way.

"I don't know…I still don't know…I know this shouldn't be bothering me but…seeing that bruise…it just…" he trailed off, he tried to finish the sentence but couldn't.

"Reminded you of the victims in the morgue."

"How did you know?" Gil asked, he sucked in a breath.

"Wild guess. We've worked together so long and we've both seen the craziest things…it'd be impossible to not let our jobs seep into our personal life and affect us in some way."

"We wouldn't be human if it didn't affect us," Gil answered back softly.

"So…what's going on in your head right now?" Sara asked. "Tell me and I'll do my best to make it go away."  
"You can't," Gil said, "this is something I have to deal with myself."

"No, you can't deal with this alone anymore. We're together, we have to deal with things together. We're a support system, we're here for each other. Just like being in the team at work, if we need help, we look to each other…so look to me, Gil. Tell me what's going on?"

"Since being with you…there's been things I've done…that I haven't meant to do…impulsive things…things I'd have never ever though to do in a million years. Kissing you so hard in the car that first time…pushing you up against the wall in the restaurant hallway and kissing you…things I never meant to do but did…"

"You're afraid…that if you could bruise me accidentally, you could get much more…I don't know…violent accidentally too?"

"I don't know…"

"You haven't got it in you to be violent," Sara responded.

"Yes I have," Gil answered quickly, "there's been times I've very nearly lost my head on cases…times I've wanted to swing for Ecklie…times I've wanted to strangle suspects…"

"But you didn't. You don't think I want to kick Ecklie in the balls every time I see him?" Sara asked.

Gil found himself laughing just a little at her comment, although even his own laugh felt extremely hollow.

"But I don't," Sara continued, "being rough in bed and being violent are two different things entirely," she assured.

"Sara…I had to ask myself this morning…several times over…what if you were scared…what if you just couldn't defend yourself last night…" he admitted.

"Gil, as scary as this is going to sound to you, I am quite capable of kicking your ass if you went too far. I could have so easily kneed you in the groin hard enough to make you let go of me."

Gil winced at the thought.

"And for the record, I was far from scared last night," she added quite assertively, "when you pinned me down, you have no idea how far from scared I was."

"Sara, am I being stupid?" Gil asked quietly, he stared at the floor absently.

"Yes," Sara answered, "because you're making a big deal out of nothing…" she paused for a moment. "Believe me, if it bothered me, you'd know about it. I'd let you know about it, and I wouldn't let you forget it."

"Okay…" he said quietly.

"Answer your door."

"Huh?" Gil asked in confusion.

Gil heard a sharp knock at the door, and he absurdly had to ask himself if Sara were psychic. He got up and crossed the room, slipped into the hallway and opened the door to find Sara standing there with her cellular phone to her ear, looking at him with those serious brown eyes of hers.

He was still holding his own phone, and he switched it off absently without even looking at it just as she stepped forward to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. He was surprised by this, and impressed by how incredibly sneaky she'd been to be standing at his door whilst calling him. No wonder she'd known he was home, his car was parked right outside. He couldn't have been anywhere else.

Her lips left his after a deep and passionate kiss, she smirked just a little, "you okay now?" she asked.

Gil moved back from her a little to look at her, her hair was in soft waves framing her face and caressing her neck, she was wearing a long sleeved shirt over brown corduroy pants. He reached over, and gently he took her hand and slid her sleeve up to reveal the bruise, he raised her arm and kissed the bruise tenderly, "I'm so sorry," he murmured.

"Don't be sorry," Sara used that same hand to pat his cheek reassuringly, then she smirked, "just stop being an idiot."

Gil scoffed, "yeah, like that's going to happen any time soon. What's that old saying…oh yeah. Easier said than done."

* * *

Yeah, yet another blah chapter, but I'm having another bout of insomnia and this kept playing out in my mind while I was trying to sleeplike it was screaming to be written. I just want to point out, when Sara mentioned something she didn't think Gil knew about, that won' t be dropped, it's just momentarily pushed asside for a later chapter. (More angst probably coming eventually).

Thanks to the reviewers and I'm going to mention you all in the next chapter...

I know, I'm meant to be taking a break here, but I have to write while things are still fresh in my mind.Anyways...keep reviewing. It's the only thing I think I live for at the moment.

SS


	54. Chapter 54: Serenade

**Chapter 54**

**Serenade**

* * *

****

When Sara and Gil arrived to work together hours later they were serenaded the moment they entered the break room and the door had swung closed. Warrick, Greg and Nick playfully crooned out a rather out of key rendition of a classic Doris Day song.

"Onceeeeeeeee I had a secret loveeee, that liiiiiiived within the heart of meeeeeee. All too sooooooon my secret love, becameeeeeee impatient to be freeeeee!"

Gil felt his cheeks flush scarlet, put his hands to his face in complete embarrassment, but an amused smirk played about his lips. "Are you mocking me?" he asked.

Sara stifled her laughter against her hand, her eyes glittering. She seemed quite amused by this little serenade.

Catherine stood against the counter polishing off the last bite of a Snickers bar, a smug expression on her face.

"Sooooooooo I told a friendly star, the waaaaaaaaay that dreamers often doooooo, just how wonderfuuuuuul you are, and why I'm soooooo in love with you…" the guys continued, their voices growing louder, "Nowwwwwwwwwww I shout it from the hiiiiiiiighest hill….even told the golden daaaaaaaafffffodils. At laaaaaaaaast my hearts an open dooooooooor, and my secret loves no seeeeecret aaaaaaaaaany mooooooore."

Sara applauded, "that was great," she laughed, she was so completely overwhelmed by it and laughing so hard her eyes were watering, she had to stop to dab at them.

"You guys really need singing lessons," Gil managed once they had finally ended the song, he shook his head at them and hoped to god no one out in the hall had heard this. He gazed over his shoulder through the glass to see if anyone had been standing in the hall, but no one was there.

"Sorry," Warrick laughed, "couldn't resist."

Gil glowered at Warrick for a split second, deciding to take a stab at him too, it was only fair, and if this was all about fun, then there was no harm in it. He turned towards Catherine, "speaking of secret loves…" he cleared his throat, "has your, uh, secret admirer stepped forward as of yet?"

"No," Catherine said, "but I found a rose in my locker yesterday," she confessed, "so he's still around."

"Yes, I bet he is," Gil gazed towards Warrick again and smirked wickedly.

"Hey…" Greg got up quickly and moved over to Sara, he was looking at her neck in a curious way, shifting his position to look beyond her hair, "Ah-hah!" he said as if he'd just stumbled upon the conclusion to a riddle, he pushed her hair away from her neck, "look! Trying to conceal evidence!"

Sara's eyes widened a little, and she moved her hair back to her neck, "I don't know what you're talking about," she said rather quickly.

Gil watched this, confused, and then suddenly he realised what Greg was talking about. He preoccupied himself pouring coffee, Sara was moving away from Greg as he tried to show what was on her neck again to the rest of them.

"My, my," said Catherine, she tossed the Snickers wrapper into the garbage, "is that a hickey?"

"No," Sara said quickly, she laughed nervously, "it's a bug bite," she lied.

"Yeah, a LOVE bug," said Greg all too quickly.

Catherine smirked, "I guess we don't have to ask how the date went last night," she folded her arms casually.

"It went fine," Gil said rather quickly.

"More than fine," Sara mumbled under her breath, she threw Gil a quick look and smiled to herself as she looked away again.

Catherine gave Gil a suspicious look, and then her eyes glittered with that kind of realization that she could read exactly from his mind what had happened last night.

_How does she do tha_t? He thought_. Why is it she can see through me like that? I hate that! _

Gil looked at her quickly and pleaded with his eyes for her not to say anything.

"So what'd you guys get up to?" Catherine asked.

"Movies," Sara responded, "We watched 'Taking Lives' and then 'Red Dragon'."

"Good movie," Greg responded.

"Original is better," Nick responded.

"Wait a minute, 'Red Dragon' was a remake?" Catherine asked.

Sara nodded, she let Gil pour her a cup of coffee, "Yeah, the original had William Petersen in it…"

"Ohh yeah," Warrick nodded, "I remember that now…"

"Who's William Petersen?" Gil asked casually, he couldn't remember having heard the name before.

"Wait a minute, are you talkin' about that guy who was in that Joshua Jackson movie…what was it called…" Greg paused, "Oh, yeah, 'the Skulls'?"

"That's him," Warrick responded, "you couldn't forget the guys face, he looks like Grissom," he mused.

"You think so?" Catherine said, she looked at Gil as if trying to decide, "yeah, I guess in a way…before the beard," she gestured to the growth on Grissom's chin. He was still trying to grow his beard back after having shaved it off stupidly in a tiny midlife crisis error.

"Hey, we should write to William Petersen's agent and see if we can get a DNA sample to compare it to Grissom, they could be long-lost twins," Greg joked.

"I sincerely doubt it," Gil responded, "hey Cath, come brief me on yesterday," he requested. In truth, he wanted to talk to her in private. He knew Catherine was going to ask some questions, and he had some questions of his own he needed to ask.

"Okay," Catherine shrugged, she headed towards the door, waiting for him to follow.

"I'll come hand out assignments shortly," he assured the rest of the team, then he left, his face still hot from the mortification of the serenade. Catherine walked ahead of him to his office, and it wasn't until they were in his office, that either of them spoke.

"So…last night went…fairly well, huh?" Catherine asked casually, she moved over to his desk to pick up a folder, "You need to deal with this ASAP by the way," she added without skipping a beat.

Gil took the folder and opened it, going over the details as he spoke, "Last night was…just…I can't even find words for it."

Catherine smirked, "bet you're sorry you've waited five years to get to this point, huh?" she sat on his desk and placed her hands in her lap.

"No…I don't think I…regret waiting so long," he admitted, "it was worth it…to get to this point in the end, I mean…" he closed the folder, "Cath, can I ask you something?" he asked.

Catherine shrugged.

"I know…this is…a really weird thing to ask…but…" he trailed off. "I don't really have…anyone else I trust enough to ask…and…well…"

"Yes?" Catherine said rather slowly, she waited anxiously to hear what he had to say, her eyes widened a little as she looked at him expectantly.

"You seem to be…sort of…I don't know, kind of an expert at this kind of thing…" he admitted, "so…uh…"

"Spit it out," she ordered.

"Have you ever…had an instance in bed…where you've…uh, been with a guy and came up all bruised?"

"Bruised where exactly?" Catherine raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know, anywhere…" he swallowed nervously.

"Uh…yeah, actually," She admitted, "sometimes its easy to get caught up in the heat of the moment, and end up with all kinds of injuries. I fractured my wrist once during sex," she grinned, "I've come up with all sorts of bumps and bruises…why?"

Gil sighed, "I feel stupid," he mumbled.

Catherine looked at him curiously, "Hmm?"

"I guess I held Sara down a little too hard and bruised her wrist…I didn't mean to, but I did, and I guess I freaked…a lot…I just, I've never bruised anyone in bed before…I didn't know how to handle it."

"I take it from the way you're speaking, you've never been in to rough play, then," Catherine said, quite amused by this, "Not that I'm surprised, you are Grissom after all.

"It's not like I haven't gotten a little rough in bed before, but…I've never pinned anyone down hard enough to leave marks," he said, he could feel himself blushing.

"Let me ask – was she actually upset about being bruised at all? Did she complain? Did she at any point at all say 'hey, look, you're hurting me, let go'?"

"She didn't care," Gil shrugged.

"Then I wouldn't worry too much about it. Come on, you're in bed with a woman and things get a little hot and heavy, a few hickeys and bruises happen, it's not the end of the world…you'll probably end up the same way," she assured. "If you're unsure about how she feels about it, ask her. If she's not complaining about it – and I know Sara isn't about to sit back and just take anything she doesn't agree with – I'd just continue until she says otherwise. You can only try to be gentle, but if you accidentally get a little carried away and hurt her, she'll let you know before it gets much more serious."

"Okay…" Gil nodded, but still felt unsure.

Catherine gestured excitedly, "It's a new sexual relationship, you're both going to have your little doubts. Only way you can avoid that is to talk to each other openly about it…" she explained.

"Cath…where would I be without you?" Gil sighed, but smiled.

"Without a girlfriend and locked in your little town house researching the mating habits of insects," Catherine answered. "Anyway, stop worrying, I can see the worry stretched on your face, but it's not going to do either you or Sara any good. You should just relax. Enjoy the ride – not to put it too bluntly. The relationship is about to get really interesting for you," Catherine smirked, "I hate to say it, but I'm jealous. I wish I was in a relationship about to go through the phase you're about to go through."

"What phase?" Gil asked.

"The 'Gotta have it all the time' phase," Catherine smirked, "after the first time, its all experimentation and learning each others little turn ons. It's so much fun."

"I've never gotten to that part of a relationship before," Gil confessed. "Is it really all that great?" he raised an eyebrow.

"You're in for a treat," Catherine assured, "so…anyway…are you ever going to tell me who my secret admirer is?"

"All I'm saying is there's only a certain number of men in this building it can be, and I'm definitely not one of them," Gil answered, "now, I really have to get to work, so get your tush off my desk."

* * *

I know, this chapter was a bit silly, but I just had to write it to make up for the bouts of angst I've been laying on thick as of late, lol.

As promised, thanks to the following people for reviewing:

Kristy87, Ambient Flames, LGraziano, gossamerwings7, luckyladyinlace, csishewolf, Aidrianna, Samantha, lunar47, MissAmanda, Cindy aka SG1PhileShipper, CSICubsFan, Erlina Silverstra.

You continue to make every day a great day when I see reviews in my mail. ;)


	55. Chapter 55: Safeword

**Chapter 55**

**Safeword **

* * *

****

"Grissom, you got a minute?" Sara announced as she stepped into Gil's office later on that night. The shift was four hours from being over with, a very long twelve hour shift that both of them felt they could have done without.

Gil didn't look up from the new mound of paperwork that had appeared on his desk during the day, "papers, papers, papers!" he sighed, he dropped his pen in disgust with it, "I'm drowning in paperwork here. You'd think solving crimes would be more import but no – they won't get off my back. Every other minute I'm being hounded on the phone. 'Have you got that report yet, Grissom', 'Get that thing on my desk now, Grissom', I haven't had a break all day…every time I get out of this chair thinking about getting some coffee, the phone rings…"

Sara looked at him sympathetically.

He finallylooked up at her, "want to swap…?" he asked with a hopeful tone.

Sara snorted in contempt of that idea, "even having an unsolvable case is better than doing your paperwork," she stood in front of his desk, "can I steal a few minutes of your time?"

"I guess," Gil answered, "gives me an excuse to not be doing this," he uttered wearily, "What's the problem?"

"I have a DB with no evidence."

"No evidence at all?"

"Nothing that suggests anyone else was there. Victim died in a trunk of a car," she sighed, "she called her father from her cellular phone and told her some guys had kidnapped her, put her in the back of the car…" she explained. "Then she was found dead in the trunk of this car at the airport, bound and gagged with her own scarf. There is no trace evidence of anyone else…no signs of assault, rape…anything," she sighed.

She moved over to the other side of Gil's desk to stand beside him. She opened the folder and took out a pile of photographs. She laid each photo down, a detailed image of the scene from every angle possible.

Gil stared down at the photos, the cogs in his mind whirring, "How'd she die?" he asked.

"Here," Sara said, "this is everything you need to know…" she took the report from the folder and handed it to him.

Gil read the reports quickly, turning the pages quickly, he could already imagine almost everything as if he'd been working the case along side her all night. He looked past the report to the photos, "the victim called from her own cell phone?" he asked quietly, trying to visualize the missing pieces of the puzzle in his head.

"Yes…" Sara responded, "What kind of kidnapper doesn't take the cell phone away from the victim?" she pointed out.

Gil stared down at the photos, he picked up a photo in particular, "something isn't right with this…" he admitted.

Sara slid nearer to see, he felt her thigh press as she moved – very inadvertently – and Gil felt a strange onslaught of sexual emotions rush through him, just being so near to her, touching her, even as innocent as it was. His heart skipped a beat, he felt the familiar ache below his the waist of his pants.

"What are you seeing?" Sara asked.

Gil had to break the contact at once from her, it was already driving him crazy. He stood and leaned over the desk, he placed the photo down, "It's not consistent with the details of a kidnapping," he leaned over the desk to look at the rest of the photos quickly, "look…" he gestured, "everything else is consistent. Being gagged…being bound with her hands behind her back…" he explained, "but the knot on the ropes around her wrists isn't…"

Sara stood beside him, leaning over also, her shoulder inadvertently brushing his. Gil found himself looking back five years and trying to remember if any accidental brushing against each other might have awakened such feelings as he was thinking now, but nothing specific could come to mind. Nothing as powerful as this.

Just the mere touch was enough to give him visions of pushing her down to the desk to make passionate love. He swallowed a little nervously, and tried to continue with the conversation as best he could.

"The knot is behind her hands…" he noted, "if you're tying someone up – arms behind their back – the knot would be in front, not behind…"

Sara swore under her breath, "how could I have missed that?"

"You would have fallen on it eventually," he said, "from the looks of it, your victim could be the suspect. She did this herself. Tied her own wrists up and somehow twisted her arms behind her back," he suggested.

Sara smirked, "I knew you'd work it out," she shook her head at himself, she picked up the photos and report and put them in the folder.

Gil glanced towards the open office door, making sure no one was standing in the hallway, he leaned close to her to murmur near her ear, "up for breakfast after the shift?"

She gave a shrug, trying to be nonchalant, "diner?" she asked.

"No," he answered quickly, he sat back in his chair, pretended to be much more preoccupied with the paperwork for the benefit of whoever might be walking by at that particular moment.

"My place?" she asked under her breath, her voice barely even audible.

"Works for me…"

"Catch you later," Sara said, she finished collecting her photos

Gil left work half an hour later than Sara had thanks to more paperwork and two important phone calls. He was glad to finally turn out the lights, lock his office door, and head out of the building.

By the time he'd gotten to Sara's apartment, it was already coming up for seven am. He winced at the thought of being late, and prepared to explain himself. When Sara opened the door, she just smiled.

"Let me guess, paperwork?" she asked.

"Yes, they're trying to drown me in it, I swear," Gil answered, he pecked her forehead before stepping inside as she invited him. He felt her brush her hand tenderly against his arm as he passed by her, again those lusty images flew to mind. How much he'd like to grab her wrist and throw her against the wall and kiss her harder than he'd ever kissed her before.

Wow, these little fantasies are pretty…brutal, he thought uneasily at himself, he watched her wander over to the kitchenette, he could smell scrambled eggs and coffee. His stomach screamed out for both eagerly.

"Hey, you lied to me," he said, "You told me you couldn't cook," he stepped over to the breakfast counter, watching her work at breakfast from behind it.

"Anyone can scramble eggs," Sara said matter-of-factly, "it isn't an art form."

Gil studied her as she moved from the stove to the toaster to put bread in, her movement so fluid, her body lithe, her face beautiful. He ached once again, stronger than before. Ever since she'd accidentally brushed against him during the shift he'd been seeing those images of her for the rest of the shift. He could still picture her half naked over his desk as if it had actually happened. The image felt incredibly dangerous but at the same time, incredibly appealing.

Now he had the image of throwing her against the wall and pressing into her to accompany the other images.

_This is what Catherine was talking about_, Gil thought. _When you just want it all the time. I've spent almost five hours wanting it tonight. Five complete hours of hardly being able to concentrate of work. So why am I standing watching her cook scrambled eggs and make toast_? _Why don't I just pin up against the wall, or bend her over the counter and…oh my god…what am I thinking! I freaked out the last time I got too rough, and here I am, getting these thoughts again. This is not normal…not for me at least._

Sara poured a cup of coffee, when she had a free moment between the eggs and the toast, "here," she said, "You look like you need it," she added, indicating she thought he looked tired.

_What I need now is something a lot more potent than coffee_, he thought_. I don't think it's on the menu at the moment though._

He sipped the coffee, "how'd the case go?" he asked, he took a seat on one of the stools.

"Everything is fine, I dropped the report off on your desk before leaving," she said, "You weren't there."

"I was in the lab," he shrugged, he looked over the rim of the coffee mug at her, another image came to mind. Pinned on the hard kitchen floor, he could almost hear her moans.

No, no, no, stop thinking this…oh my god.

"Hey, I was thinking," Sara said, "You know…I know you've still been stressing about the bruises…" she spooned out scrambled eggs onto a plate and placed it front of him.

"I promise, I'm dealing with it, I'm not going to freak out again. That was a one time thing," he assured quickly.

"Yeah, but anyway, it's like you said…you had no way of knowing if I was scared or…if I wanted to stop…" she said, "Because it wasn't like it was something we ever discussed before, right?" she asked.

_Is this an appropriate subject to talk about over breakfast_, he wondered. He watched her get herself a plate of the scrambled eggs, she it beside him, then went to collect the four slices of toast she'd now made.

"Riiiight," he managed slowly, uneasily. He stared down at his eggs, he really wanted to let this subject drop but at the same time, found himself strangely fascinated as to what she wanted to say. Did she want to change her mind about how she felt about the bruises? Was she confident enough to say he had hurt her?

"Well…I came up with an idea," Sara placed the toast on a plate and put the plate on the breakfast bar in between hers and Gil's plate. She moved around and took the stool beside him. She picked up her fork, "how about a safeword?"

"A safeword?" Gil turned to look at her curiously. He was familiar with the concept, but he was curious to see why she felt they might need one.

"Yeah, you know…a certain word we'd have…and if something is getting a little too scary or sore…or it doesn't feel right…then all we have to say is the safeword and the other person stops everything…immediately," she explained.

"Do you think we need one?" he asked, growing very uneasy now.

Sara took a bite of her scrambled eggs, then picked up a slice of toast, "I don't know, really. I just wondered what you thought about it," she admitted, "I mean, you say you had no way of knowing if I was scared. It might…reassuring for future reference if things got too hard to handle I could say something that would let you know…"

Gil realised she was right, it might be reassuring to know, "It's…a pretty good idea…" he admitted.

Sara nodded, "Okay," she bit into her toast.

"So what might the word be?" he asked, he picked up a slice of toast.

"Something really stupid…absurd…something you just wouldn't say during sex.

Gil raised an eyebrow, "like?"

"I don't know…" she paused, "toast," she held up her slice of toast.

Gil laughed at this, "toast?"

"Well, if someone blurts out 'toast' while you're making love to them, it'd make you stop and think, wouldn't it?"  
"Yeah," Gil mused. "So…let me get this straight…our safeword is 'toast'."

"Yes," Sara answered, "although I don't expect you'll ever hear it…" she added in a slight mumble with a smirk, she took another bite of her scrambled eggs and made a face, "this needs pepper…" she got up.

"I'll get it," he was about to stand.

"No, it's okay…I'll get it," Sara said, "you're a guest, you should be sitting and finishing your breakfast," she added.

Gil smirked "if you say so."

Sara moved around the counter and opened a high cupboard, standing on her tiptoes – her feet bare - to reach a pepper shaker which had accidentally been pushed back too far on the highest shelf. Gil watcher her, watched the rising of her t-shirt at the back. The thought of pushing up against her from behind leapt to his mind, he winced.

_I haven't had sex on the brain like this since I was seventeen_, he thought, half in

amusement, and half in disgrace.

Sara's fingers hit the pepper shaker, but push it even further away inadvertently. He got up, stepped up behind her and reached up to the cupboard, and stretched to pick it up, just barely reaching it himself. Sara's back touched his chest and finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

The build up of frustration that had been going on since five hours ago had finally met the point where his restraint collapsed. He spun her around with his left hand, still holding the pepper shaker with his right, he pressed his lips on hers to kiss her, trying to hold back on his desperation and failing to succeed.

Sara kissed him back with that same desperation that told him he hadn't been the only one who'd spent all day thinking about a moment like this. He closed the short space between their bodies so that she'd known exactly how he needed her, he had her trapped between himself, the counter and the above cupboard.

He felt her yield to him, her arms enclosed around his neck, he ran his left hand down her hip to her leg, sliding it under to raise her thigh to meet his hip, giving him more access to push his sex against her. He heard her moan muffle between his lips and hers, felt her tongue stroke deliciously against his.

_Wait, wait, you're not giving her a chance to respond, what if you're misreading the situation?_ _What if this hurts her? What if I'm imagining she wants this just as much – if not more – than I do?_

He broke the kiss, and quickly, breathlessly, he asked, "Anything you want to say?" he asked, hoping to god that her response wouldn't be 'toast'.

Sara grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to pull him in. The strength and authority she this with made Gil almost want to moan in sheer ecstasy, "Don't you dare stop now," she mumbled before their lips met again.

And he didn't, he dropped the pepper shaker carelessly on the counter, and continued. He broke the kiss momentarily and moved to her jaw, "what about breakfast?"

Sara shivered in response of his lips brushing against her jaw, "I'm not in the mood for it anymore."

Those next few moments became a blur of discarded clothes and more fiery kisses. Gil felt more alive than he ever had before, and it disturbed him as much as pleased him.

Completely free of any clothing, they kissed like hot blooded teens. Completely and fully aroused he felt himself graze against her belly, and the tingles of pleasure began to surge through him, he worked his lips across her neck, enjoying the small throaty moans and sighs of bliss that escaped her lips.

Her fingers skimmed gently down his stomach, further south, until she – quite literally – had him in the palm of her hand. He stifled a moan, and tried to continue despite how distracted he was beginning to become as she began to work her hand along him in a slow consistent rhythm.

_This is dirty…we're in the kitchen for Gods sake_, he thought absurdly, then mused that probably this was what was so fiercely stimulating about it. _The old Gil Grissom doesn't make love in the kitchen, and he certainly doesn't do it standing up either._

Sara's hand tightened slightly around him, he bit down on her neck softly to stop himself from moaning.

_The Gil Grissom definitely has a different opinion about sex in the kitchen,_ he thought wryly.

Sara positioned him just so that his hardness glided across the warm moist valley between her legs, she let out a soft sigh in response, incredibly sensitive, incredibly needy.

Gil took his lips from her mouth, he was still for many moments, trying to remain calm for two reasons. The first was that he thought he might be sent over the edge and spend himself before had a chance to please her, and the second was the more frightening part. The one he knew she might not understand.

"What is it?" she asked softly, her chest rising and falling as she breathed deeply.

"Nothing," he murmured, "give me a minute…" he kissed her throat, tried to focus mainly on pleasing her for a few moments, letting himself wind down enough that no sudden movements would send him into sheer ecstasy and ruin the moment. Sara's hands were in his hair, her breasts bare, nipples grazing his chest, they kissed once again, heatedly. She shifted her position ever slightly so he felt it against him again, felt how incredibly excited he'd made her.

Oh my god, she'll never understand if I stop now, he thought, he kissed her shoulder and tried to stare down to see what might be happening below, he could see himself partly concealed, although he had not penetrated, he was merely pressing against her. His cheeks were flushing scarlet and he didn't want her to know why.

"Something is wrong…" she said, "you're tensing up…" she placed both hands on his shoulders.

"Uh…" he swallowed, "it's nothing…" he tried to assure.

"No…what is it…" she put her hand under his chin and raised it so that he had to look her in the face, he had no choice, he felt powerless right then. "Are you losing your nerve?"

_You have to tell her. Oh my god, she might laugh_, he thought_. Or worse…she might think you're a freak…oh god…this cannot be happening right now, not like this…why didn't you think to tell her the first time after you'd made love to her_!

"I've…never done it…like this…"

"Standing up?" Sara asked, sounding completely baffled. "You're kidding…" she asked, it seemed to make the moment all the more absurd they could be having this conversation standing naked in her kitchen.

"No…but that's not what's wrong…" he licked his lips nervously. This was true. Standing up was not the problem. While it had been one thing he'd never done, it certainly didn't limit him – there were plenty of other things he had done. The problem – if it could be called that – wasn't about the position at all.

"Well, everything else feels definitely right here," she pointed her eyes downwards, "so…whatever's wrong…" she trailed off.

"I've never done this without protection, Sara," he blurted, he lowered his head, incredibly ashamed. There, he'd said it. Quickly, and precisely and honestly. How could he expect her to understand that? "I'm a fifty year old man who's never made love without using a condom."

Ever since the first time he'd had sex, he'd been safety conscious – at least in this respect. He'd always been aware of the danger of unwanted pregnancies – it happened often enough, he'd seen it through the years. Even knowing the woman in question at the time might have been on birth control wasn't enough to assure him. Not when the pill could only be ninety-nine-point-nine-percent safe. _What about the other zero-point-one percent_? He had to ask himself. _It happens, I've read about it_.

And then there was the fact of sexually transmitted diseases - another thing that scared him entirely. He'd seen enough of infected victims and suspects to know how it looked, what it caused, and it could even ruin lives. He'd never wanted to let that happen to him or anyone else. If having to be the one to take preventative measures was the only way to stop that from happening, then so be it.

Sara was silent for a moment, then she said very quietly, "oh," she shifted again, accidentally this time, the touching was sending Gil into complete torment.

"I'm sorry…" he apologized.

"It's nothing to be sorry for," Sara put both hands on his face, she raised his head again, "it's kind of…reassuring."

"It is?" he asked, surprised by how incredibly nonchalant she could be about this piece of intimate information..

"Yeah…in our line of work, it doesn't surprise me either…" she pecked his lips softly, "if you want to stop, it's okay…really…"

"No…I don't want to," he pecked her lips back a few times. His body screamed that he definitely didn't want to stop at all. But that meant doing something he'd never done before.

_This is…being reckless, trusting that the zero-point-one percent isn't going to come back to haunt me later…_

"Then what do you want to do?" she asked, she kissed his jaw lightly whist waiting for him to answer.

Gil stood against her, her nipples grazed his bare chest, made Sara shiver and made the contact between them grow even stronger still.

_Come on, Gil, make up your mind_, his thoughts cried at him_. Look at it one way, every time you cross the street, you're being reckless. Every time you go out on the job you're being reckless, every time you defy Ecklie at work, you're being reckless. Why is this any different? You're going to die one day, might as well make the most of it…_

He stopped to ask himself if this was really what he wanted, if it was really what was right. _You trust her, don't you_? He thought. _It feels right, doesn't it_?

He leaned back a little to look into her eyes. Yes, he trusted her. He trusted her with his life and with his body…which was now touching hers so intimately. And she trusted him…for if she had not trusted him, wouldn't she have insisted he stop too?

Gil kissed her fiercely, pinned her and guided himself so that he slid forward into her, finally joined with her, which was what his body had been screaming to do for five hours now.

Sara broke the kiss to sigh in pleasure, her hands gripping his shoulders, she let him support her weight as he moved against her, first slow, and then building a vigorous rhythm.

It wasn't like any other time Gil had experienced, it was almost triple the intensity of the first time he'd made love with Sara, and ten times the intensity of the first time he'd ever made love at all. The sensations were completely different, the pleasure so extreme that he couldn't hold onto himself enough to make it a long lasting experience. Barely just lasting long enough to please her and bring her over when he finally couldn't take it anymore.

His body seized with the spasms of pleasure, every nerve ending tingled in complete and utter elation. Then relaxed in her arms as it passed, he let his cheek rest against her shoulder, breathless and spent.

Sara felt him plant a soft kiss upon his neck, "you never cease to surprise me."

* * *

Sex brought back by popular demand. Tried not to be too graphic, got carried away. LOL.

Thanks to the people who were reviewing :) As always I'll mention you in the even chapter number (56)

I know some people will think the condom thing might be a bit OOC for Grissom, but I dunno, I felt that as a scientist and well versed in sexual diseases, he'd probably be pretty anal about wearing one. I guess this might start an argument so I'm going to shut up now before I get flamed, lol.

SS


	56. Chapter 56: Life is Great

**Chapter 56**

**Life is Great**

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****

"Grissom, you've been grinning like an idiot all day."

Gil had been lost in his thoughts when he heard Catherine speak. He hadn't been aware he'd been grinning at all, although it certainly didn't surprise him. After a morning like he'd had, it didn't surprise him at all.

He couldn't help it. As ridiculous as it made him feel, there was just no way he could suppress this persistent smile.

"I'm sorry," he admitted, and carried on with what he'd been doing.

Gil and Catherine were searching for evidence in the back of a white ford transit van in the garage. He'd escaped the usual paperwork his job entailed for a time to help Catherine out. Sara had her day off, and Warrick was appearing in court. The graveyard shift almost seemed to ground to a complete halt being so completely understaffed once again.

There was the option of calling Sara in, of course, but Gil felt that might do more harm than good at the moment – especially after that morning. He doubted he would get any work done if she were in the building. Distraction was a dangerous thing.

"No, don't apologise," Catherine climbed into the back of the van with him, she switched on the UV light in her hand, and bent down to examine the carpeting, "it's different, seeing you without that usual grim expression on that face of yours," she confessed, "up until a few months ago, I thought perhaps you didn't have any smiling muscles at all."

Gil smirked at her teasing, "perhaps all I needed was a reason to smile?" he queried, he gave her a wink, and knelt down, gesturing to a stain on the carpeting that had been hiding under normal circumstances deep within the fibers of the carpet. "Swab this."

Catherine took a swab out to obtain a sample for analysis, "so…things are going well?" she asked. She swabbed the carpet and enclosed the sample in its cap, she placed it aside.

"Better than I could have ever hoped – or dreamed," he responded quietly, surprising himself that he could still concentrate on work even when Catherine's bringing up the situation led him to think even more about Sara that morning.

Catherine paused for thought, "you know, it amazes me," she stated, she took a good look at Gil, "you're changing. You're actually changing. You. A creature of habit. Suddenly you're not hiding away like some hermit, only coming out to work."

Gil flushed, slightly pleased with this and yet, slightly uneasy about the thought of that. He was changing, he had already changed. His whole world had changed, his routine, his personality, even his passion for his job…all because of Sara.

"Is it a bad thing?" he asked worriedly, stopping to look at her, his blue eyes serious.

Catherine gave a merry laugh, "are you kidding, it's great. It's like you've been Pinocchio all this time – all wooden-like – and now you've made the transition to a real live boy."

Gil gave a soft laugh at this, "far from a boy," he commented, and winked at Catherine, he noted a tiny blood splatter on the wall of the van, he picked up the camera to take a picture before deciding to swab it.

"Ah, so that grin is far from your general happiness, then," Catherine grinned, "someone got laaaaaaaid."

"Sssh," Gil nudged her, "someone might hear."

Catherine hushed, and went back to concentrating on work for several moments before speaking again, "so it was good?"

"Was what good?" he asked, giving her his attention for a second in between trying to obtain other samples from the back of the van.

"Getting laid."

"I can't get into that with you," Gil responded, but grinned anyway nonetheless. "Why are you so interested anyway? I thought women only discussed sex with other women?" he asked.

"You weren't so bent on that rule when you were asking about sex the other day," Catherine mused.

"That was different, that was advice, not a sex talk."

"Sex was involved," Catherine commented, "Grissom, I'm the closest thing you have to a best friend here, don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you. But you're also a woman."

"So I'm marred by my sex," Catherine responded, almost bitterly.

"Nope. I just don't feel comfortable repeating the details of my sex life with a woman…" he trailed off, but then smirked, "unless it's the one I happen to have pinned against the kitchen counter," he kept his voice quiet.

Catherine's mouth fell open, "kitchen counter? You animal, you. I never knew you had it in you!" she laughed.

"Neither did I, Cath. Neither did I."

Gil was glad when the shift was over. It had been the kind of day that had seemed to last an eternity, and all day he only had one thing in mind. Seeing Sara.

He hummed along to the radio during the drive to Sara's apartment building, his heart light, a smile still plastered on his face that he could see every time he glanced into the wing mirror.

_I can't believe it_, he thought as he pulled into the parking lot behind Sara's building. _Life is good. No. Life is great. Life is spectacular_. He had to laugh at himself thinking this.

He traveled the stairs quickly to get to Sara's apartment, surprised to find the door slightly ajar. There was loud music playing inside the apartment, Gil found himself absurdly wondering how the neighbours had not though to complain.

His mind began to work into overdrive, his heart began to thud. Why was her door open, why was the music so loud? Had she been robbed? Had someone broke into her apartment and put the music up so no one would hear a commotion?

"Sara?" he called out, he pulled his sleeve over his hand to push the door open as so not to leave fingerprints or disturb any lingering ones. The door swung open quietly, and he stepped in slowly, looking around. "Sara?" he asked again.

The apartment was a complete shambles, a chair overturned, the pictures that usually stood on the shelf above the desk had fallen to the floor. The coffee table had been swept free of the books she usually kept piled there, which were now thrown to the floor in a careless fashion.

Orange juice had been spilled on the counter, all the cupboards hung open as if someone had been looking for something frantically and had forgotten to close them. A pile of CDs were scattered all over the floor.

"SARA!" he cried out, he rushed towards the bedroom, the bed blankets were hanging to the floor, a pile of clothes and shoes splayed across the floor in careless fashion. It certainly looked like there had been a crime.

Gil turned and left the bedroom and strode across the living room to the other side to find the bathroom, he threw the door open and rushed in. Sara was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, her head in her hands, a bottle of vodka was at her feet on its side. It had fallen, letting the contents spill out onto the tiled floor. He could smell it now.

"Jesus…" he sighed in relief, for one terrible moment he'd thought that something might have happened to her, that some burglars might have broken in and attacked her.

Sara was wearing nothing save a white oversized t-shirt. Her legs and feet were bare, her fingers were buried in her hair.

"Sara?" he asked, he glanced down to the bottle and felt a cold chill sweep across his soul. She'd been drinking again. Somehow, in the relief of the moment that she hadn't been assaulted, he'd overlooked it. Now, it was so blatantly staring him in the face.

Sara took her hands away from her face and looked up at him. She had a bruise below her right eye which was slightly swelling. Her eyes were glassy, as if she were close to crying. She spoke with a bitter tongue, "get out."

Gil was so taken aback he could do nothing but stand there in silence. Sara got up quickly and passed by him in a drunken stumble, she left the bathroom before he had a chance to ask her what was going on.

"Sara…" he asked in confusion, he chased her, "what happened here?"

Sara was trying to pick up the chair, so completely off balance, she didn't succeed, instead she stumbled and tripped, falling to the floor with a soft thud. "Just get out."

They both heard the neighbour below bang on the ceiling to indicate for them to be quiet. Gil wasn't surprised. The music was probably the problem.

Gil moved over to the hifi and shut the music off, then he knelt by Sara, "I'm not leaving."

Sara frowned, "stop looking at me like that. Like you're analyzing me."

"I'm not analyzing anything. All I'm doing is wondering what's going on. I left you this afternoon and you were in a good mood, I come back to find you drunk, bruised and your apartment in a shambles…" he gestured around them.

"I'm not drunk," Sara pulled herself up and steadied herself on the wall.

"Right," Gil remarked sarcastically, he stood, remaining opposite her, he tried to look her in the eyes but she looked away.

Moments of silence past, neither said anything, Sara just stood there, her eyes still with tears threatening to spill.

"Is this about me?" he asked concernedly. She gave a shake of her head.

Gil picked the chair up for her and placed it down right on the floor, he wasn't sure how to deal with this. Black coffee and cleaning the apartment up as best as he could seemed to be the only thing he could be capable of. But it didn't work as a permanent solution. It wouldn't make everything all better again.

Looking at her in this condition, seeing her so drunk and distressed, it did something to him that he couldn't explain. It was almost as if he could feel her heartache over something. Only he had no clue what it was, and this made it harder to deal with. It made him want to cry out of hopelessness, but he wasn't about to let her see him shed a single tear.

He decided to try again, he used his supervisory tone with her. Direct and firm. It seemed to be the best way in dealing with awkward situations, "Sara…this…has been going on too long for me to just ignore…" he took her by the arm and led her to the chair to sit down. He knelt in front of her, "tell me what's going on…" he pleaded softly.

"No…nothing is going on, I'm just…I don't know, just…just leave it," she turned away from him as if even looking at him repulsed her. He felt hurt by this, and he moved back slowly.

"You said this isn't me…but you can't even look at me right now…" he felt a lump grow in his throat.

"Believe me, it's not you," she assured, "I just…I don't want you seeing me like this…"

He reached out and touched her bruised cheek, "what happened to your face?"

"I fell over the fucking chair, okay?" she uttered crudely.

Gil now saw that this was a possibility. She could be pretty unsteady after a few drinks. He'd seen her fall before, and she didn't do it gracefully.

"Your face is a little swollen, we should get something cold on that to reduce the swelling, huh?" he stood slowly. "Then…once we've fixed that…we'll talk."

"I don't want to talk, Grissom," she remarked, and her use of his last name made him realise just how upset she was about whatever was bothering her. "I just want to forget, okay?" she stood up and left the living room, without another word.

The bedroom door shut sharply and loudly behind her. A sure invitation that Gil was not invited to come after her.

Giving in with her for the moment, deciding to give her some time, he began to pick up the mess in the living room and put it away as best he could, trying to remember where things went. He'd deal with her when she'd sobered up.

* * *

Okay, maybe the title was a little bit of a misleading title, lol, hehe. Ah, anyway...

Thanks to the following reviewers!

Mystical Panther, Samantha, jtbwriter, lunar47, marcelle, sarahmakinson, Gossamerwings7, NimrodDuckie, Aidrianna, luckyladyinlace, Wishing on the Moon, woody27, MissAmanda, LGraziano, CookieK2, moia, Marbs, Phoenix38133, princesspink, wandaa, Niebezpiczny Ksiezyc, Kimber McLeod, Erlina Silverstra, and kristy87

Aaaaaah - yeah, I know this chapter was late, I had a few problems relating to my insomnia and needing a break from the computer and stuff.

SS


	57. Chapter 57: I Don't Know You

**Chapter 57**

**I Don't Know You**

* * *

****

It only took half an hour to get the living room and kitchen in as much order as he could, and it only took mere minutes to mop up the vodka in the bathroom. That vodka reminded him of blood. Despite it was clear, and despite he'd mopped it up, it was still there, he could still smell it in the air, could still tell it had seeped down deep into the grout of the tiles and would remain there forever like some silent reminder that bottle had existed.

He shook the thought off. He couldn't think about that now. Sara was the first priority. She had still locked herself in her room. He could hear her moving around every so often which was enough confirmation for him that she was all right in there. He wondered if she had sobered up any.

After completing the cleaning process as best he could, he searched the kitchen cupboards for coffee, but found none. However, a shopping list on the fridge suggested that Sara had wanted to remind herself to 'get coffee' at some stage.

He slipped out of the apartment silently – taking the keys of the front door with him so that she could not lock him out.

At the store, he bought coffee, as well as some other choice groceries that she'd written down on the list that had been stuck to her fridge. It felt good to be out of her apartment for that short time. Just being there, with her in this strange mood, had made the whole place feel uncharacteristically oppressive, and he wanted to give her time to breathe and give himself time to clear his head, to think about how he could approach the subject of her problem when he returned.

_What do I say, though? She clearly doesn't want to talk about…how can I get her to open up to me? Is this what she was talking about on the answering machine a few days ago…something she thought I knew…?_ Gil thought frantically.

When he arrived back at her apartment, her bedroom door was hanging wide open, and the faint smell of juniper hung in the air. Cautiously, not sure what fragile state she might be in at the moment, he placed the groceries down on the kitchen counter and stepped towards the bedroom, he gazed in, no trace of Sara, although the t-shirt she'd been wearing was lying on the floor. He picked it up and examined it in his hands as if it might be a piece of evidence.

_Did she leave? Oh god, what if she's left…what if she got dressed and went out to buy more drink…God…I shouldn't have left her…how stupid is it to leave someone who's having problems…someone who's obviously so upset. If I loved her I never would have left her alone…what if…oh god…she was so completely wasted…_

He looked around the room frantically as if there might be another clue to where she could be.

_What…what if she left the apartment, and walked out in front of a—_

The sound of water, and the echo of tiles caught his attention, breaking his dismal and disturbing thoughts. He put the T-shirt on the bed, left the bedroom and turned his attention to the bathroom.

That uneasy feeling returned as he walked cautiously over there, he knocked on the bathroom door lightly, "Sara…?" he asked softly.

There was a long pause, and the splash of water, "it's okay to come in…" she sighed from inside, her voice seemed terribly empty to Gil.

Gil turned the handle, and stepped in slowly, the bathroom was full of steam, which hit his glasses – which he'd forgotten to remove the last time he'd needed to use them - so that he had to take them off and put them aside on the shelf.

Sara was in the bath, she had her knees pulled to her chest, her arms hugging them tightly, her dark brown hair dripping in damp tendrils around her face. She was staring into the water as if she saw a whole world swirling amongst the sparkling bubbles.

She seemed so completely childlike and helpless, her eyes puffy, her cheek swollen, her skin pink from the hot water. Her eyelashes wet and spiky.

Gil kept one hand on the door, he tried not to let it bother him how seeing her bare flesh again made him stir, "I…uhm…I went out for some fresh air," he admitted, "to the store…picked up the stuff you had written down on that shopping list," he used his free hand to gesture behind him as if the fridge and the list might be right at his back rather than in a whole other room.

"Thanks," Sara said quietly, her voice still empty.

He stood there, not sure what to say anymore. Words popped into his head, but nothing seemed appropriate. How could he get her to tell him what she was feeling without angering her more?

It seemed so strange, these moods of hers that shifted from happy and carefree to suddenly dark and melancholy, and somewhat hostile.

Gil sighed to himself, gazing down at her. _She was as strong as steel when I left her yesterday morning, and now…she's brittle like glass…_

He noted the toilet lid was down and slowly he sat down, resting his arms on his knees, he spent several moments wondering how he could approach the subject. Finally, he decided just to speak the truth of what he was feeling.

"I'm worried."

Sara raised her eyes from the water and turned to look at him. Her eyes seemed clearer than they had forty minutes ago, she was much more sobered, thankfully.

"When I was on my own – no woman in my life - everything was fine. Only thing I really I had was myself," he explained. "Sure I'd be concerned for people at work, people who're my friends, but for the most part, my involvement in feeling the concern was pretty minimal," he rambled, "but…suddenly I walk into a relationship and now I realise I can't just be worried for me anymore," he took in a deep breath.

Sara turned away again, one arm was still wrapped around her legs, hugging her knees so that her bare breasts were concealed from him as if he might have never seen her so exposed before. Her other hand idly skimmed the water, drawing patterns in the thin layer of foam floating across the water.

Gil couldn't think of anything else to say to her after this, and he silenced himself, just watching her, somewhat fascinated for several moments.

"Does it ever occur to you that…we've been together for…what, two months, and…we don't really know each other at all?" she asked quietly.

Gil sat forward a little more, "how do you mean?"

Sara turned to look at him once again, her eyes softened, "what do I know about you apart from what you do at work and how you've spent the last two months outside of work?" she asked.

Gil opened his mouth to speak, but then fell silent. Is this really about me? Or is she making a point? God, I wish she wouldn't be so cryptic…wait…is that what she's accusing me of being?

She sighed, "I love you but…I don't know you…and until I know you…I can't…I don't know…"

Gil suddenly understood, "Without knowing me…you can't tell me what's going on…" he trailed off.

Sara nodded, "it's weird, isn't it?" she asked softly. "You're still a stranger to me, even though we've shared a bed, and had sex twice…"

Gil got up and moved over to the bath, he sat on the edge, facing her, "Sara…my life is no great mystery. What you don't know about me is irrelevant…" he explained. "There's nothing in my past that's…worthy…of even mentioning."

Sara watched him, "Catherine knows more about you than I do…do you know how unnerving that is?"

"I'm sorry," he reached over and touched her wet hair, it felt cold against his bare hand, "we'll work on that…we'll work on this. Whatever…is hurting you, I'll work on with you, we'll do it together."

"Not today," Sara shook her head, "I can't…deal with this right now."

Gil chewed his lip for a moment, "that's why you're drinking, isn't it? Because you can't deal with it…"

Sara gave a slight shrug and looked away from him again.

_I'll take that as a yes_, Gil thought. "Okay, I get it…you don't want to talk about it, it's cool…" he finally gave in, "for now," he added softly, "but…when the time comes and you are ready, I'm here…and if I'm not here, I can get here…even if I'm at work."

Sara raised an eyebrow, "even if you're at work?"

"Yes," Gil sighed, "I'm…putting you ahead of my work. Think you can deal with that?"

"I don't know," Sara smiled a little, although it seemed somewhat vacant, "it's kind of…a big thing, Gil Grissom putting a woman ahead of his work. That should be splattered all over the department newsletter."

Gil felt his tension release a little as he saw her smile, he leaned down and kissed her wet forehead, "I'll go make some breakfast while you finish your bath."

"I'm not hungry," Sara admitted.

"Fine," Gil said, "do you want me to just…go home?" he asked casually, although secretly knowing he'd be hurt if she should suggest so.

"No, just…go and wait for me, I'll be out shortly."

Gil left the bathroom, he wandered around the living room for a moment or two, then took a seat on the sofa, he turned the television on via remote, and watched a news program. He heard the bathroom door open and he turned to see Sara stepping out, wearing a short dusky blue terrycloth robe, her hair had been towel dried, was now messy tangles of wet hair that he found incredibly attractive on her.

Sara moved over and climbed onto his lap without another word, without even the pause to think to do so. Gil felt incredibly enamored by this, and he put his hands onto hips as she straddled him, and welcomed her mouth upon his. The smell of the bubble bath she'd used and her fresh shampoo onslaught his senses, as did the almost desperate way she touched him over his pants. There was something assertive in the way she kissed him that he couldn't explain, she took charge like she hadn't before.

_Should she be doing this after all that's just gone on? Is this vulnerability that's making her do this? Am I taking complete advantage here_? He thought worriedly.

Sara fumbled with his pants for a moment before releasing him from them, she sucked on his bottom lip, her fingers glided up and down his member slowly, steadily, just as she'd learned he liked.

_Okay, she's not completely vulnerable here_, he thought. _She's in control, she can stop any time she wants_.

He barely had to put any effort into untying her robe, the whole thing came undone and slid down her shoulders like silk sliding over steel. Gil nuzzled her bare neck, enjoying the sensations of what her hands were doing.

She shifted her position, climbing over him a little more to guide him to her, he trailed a wet pattern from her neck to her chest and kissed her bare breasts, musing on how still slightly soapy she tasted.

_Is this some trick to make me forget about her problem_? He wondered absurdly. _Oh man, it's working_, he thought as she mounted him completely, she supported half of her weight on her hands against his shoulders, the rest on her knees.

Sara threw her head back to moan as she moved against him, building a rhythm that began to accelerate. Her chest was rising and falling as her breathing quickened, her breasts flushed with excitement, her damp hair caressed her bare shoulders.

Gil held in the urge to moan, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so. Something in him was afraid that if he should moan it might be the one thing that would turn her off, so he'd always tried to remain desperately quiet, only sometimes lapsing in small gasps of pleasure.

Sara was staring at him as she rode him, moving harder, faster, their eyes locked in what seemed like a dangerous stand-off, her hands gripped his shoulders harder as she pushed against him.

_Oh my god, that look on her face is going to be etched in my mind and every time I see her at work I'm going to blush_, he thought.

Her moans grew louder, and Gil wondered what the neighbours must have been thinking, and felt rather disgraced.

He wanted to slow her, and tried to roll her over so that he could take charge, but she refused to let that happen, and the look on her face spoke volumes. She definitely wasn't in the mood to lose control right now. He sucked in his breath as she went harder on him, his heart was beating so fast he thought it might explode.

He pursed his lips, closing his eyes tight, trying to hold onto the moment, he was growing closer and closer to losing it.

One hand let go of him, and she put her fingers to his lips, to pry his bottom lip down, "don't hold it in…" she murmured.

Her speed increased, her lithe body rocking into him harder, until at her command, he just couldn't hold his voice in anymore, and he had to cry out at the moment the pleasure overwhelmed him. Her orgasm met his, he felt her body around him pulsate as if in perfect unison with the pulses of his own throbbing flesh. It was incredible.

Sara slowed to a stop, and they kissed heatedly for several moments afterwards. She dismounted and curled up beside him, naked, her head on his chest, her eyes closed lightly. She seemed contented, and no longer concerned with her problems.

_Maybe that was the point_, he realised. _Sex is the greatest release of tension_, he thought as he stroked her hair. _She doesn't seem tense or upset now at all…not that I blame her._ _After this…I don't think I'll have tension again until next Christmas_.

* * *

Probably seems like yet another unneccessary sex scene (but lets face it, how long have they waited to get to this point, I think they deserve it, lol).

I'll name the reviewers at chapter 58 :)


	58. Chapter 58: Empty Promise

**Chapter 58**

**Empty Promise**

* * *

****

When Gil left Sara that morning after making love, she'd already been asleep. They'd dropped off to sleep on the couch together, but Gil had woke up just before noon, and had moved her to the bedroom before leaving himself to go home, take a shower and get some much needed sleep on his own.

He did not get much sleep however, his mind was still a whirling mess of chaos and confusion over what had happened that morning. He still couldn't understand what had upset Sara, and this bothered him. He didn't like not knowing things, especially if it was important. Perhaps it was just the scientist in him that had to know the answers, but he couldn't help himself.

It was while he was lying in bed that the familiar throbbing of a migraine began to manifest, and he tried his best to force it out of his system as he rolled over and pulled the pillow over his head to drown out any outside noise, and any light that seeped through his eyelids.

Sleep was useless, and after trying for several hours to get any, he surrendered. His body felt tense, and he couldn't understand it. After what had happened this morning, tense should have been the last thing he was feeling.

With a sigh, he got up, and took two of the prescription painkillers for his migraine, put on a pair of sunglasses, and sipped on the strongest black coffee he could find in his house. He loaded himself on coffee until he felt sickened, and by the time it finally began to kick in and do its evil magic on his system, it was time to leave for work.

Gil arrived at work ten minutes early, heading straight to the break room for another cup of coffee – determined he would not let those effects falter even for a second. If the only way he'd be able to get through his day would be by overloading his system with caffeine, then so be it.

The team – save Sara – were all seated drinking coffee, they all watched him, studying him. He felt strangely annoyed with this more than usual.

"Grissom, you look like crap," was Catherine's first comment.

"Thanks, I don't think I could get through another day without your compliments," Gil said sarcastically, his tone biting, he then winced at himself, "sorry, ignore me," he then responded.

"Didn't get any sleep?" Catherine asked.

Gil shrugged, "happens to us all, doesn't it?" he poured himself some coffee.

Greg smirked knowingly, as if he thought perhaps Gil's lack of sleep might have been anything to do with Sara. Gil only wished he had the nerve to tell the boy it wasn't what he thought, but he wasn't in the mood to make excuses for himself right now.

"Hey, look, a lovebug bite," Greg pointed out to Gil's neck.

Gil put his hand to his neck, "excuse me?"

"I believe he's referring to the hickey on the left side of your neck, Mr Grissom," Catherine sipped her coffee, a rather smug look in her wide blue eyes.

Gil swore under his breath, "Cath, you have a mirror?"

"Sure," Catherine put her coffee down, picked her bag up from the floor and searched through it to find her compact, "here."

Gil flipped the mirror open and stared at his neck in it. They were right. Three bruises had manifested themselves on his flesh, starting just above his collar and disappearing beneath it. He pulled his collar away slightly to examine them.

He felt humiliation creep up his neck in a furious blush. He hadn't even noticed Sara doing this that morning – but then he supposed it was easy to become distracted in what she'd been doing.

"Just what I need," he muttered, "tell tale signs for people to make rumours about," he tried to fix his shirt collar so it was mostly concealed.

"I can cover it with make up for you?" Catherine suggested.

"Lets not even go there," Gil handed her the compact back.

The door to the break room opened and Sara strode in casually.

"Hey, it's Vampirella," Greg said cheerfully, and the others laugh – save Gil, who just tried to hide his face by picking up the nearest newspaper and pretended to be more than engrossed in the front page article.

"Hmm?" Sara asked in confusion, she moved over to where Gil was standing to get a cup of coffee.

"You left your vampiric marks on bugman," Warrick gestured towards Gil, he glanced towards Sara, then dropped his arm, "girl, what is that on your face?"

Sara touched her face absently, "oh…I, uh…I actually don't remember…" she rubbed her head, and for moments even Gil could see she was having trouble trying to piece together what had happened that morning before he'd arrived at her apartment.

"Looks like you went a couple of rounds with Mike Tyson," Warrick over exaggerated. It didn't look as bad as he was making out.

Gil examined Sara's face from the short distance between them, the welt was darker now than it had been this morning, but most of the swelling had gone down. Luckily, she'd been spared her eye swelling up to follow it.

Sara blinked, "oh yeah…I fell over a chair in my living room…I tripped, I was…uh…dancing…" she admitted rather sheepishly.

They all looked as if they didn't believe this. Eyes turned towards Gil suspiciously, and he felt the horror of realizing what they were thinking of him at that very instant.

They don't think I did that, do they? He wondered.

He could see Greg's eyes shift from Sara's face to examine the bruise, then to turn on him and look at the love-bite still revealed slightly by his collar.

No one said anything. The room seemed to drop several degrees cooler than it had before, the warmth and laughter dissipating like dust in the air.

Gil didn't want to be the first to say what he thought they were all thinking of him right that instant, although there was no question in his mind that they were thinking he'd hit Sara. They could see his love-bite now as a possible defensive wound. He shuddered. "Here…" he said to Sara taking her cup from her and pouring her coffee, he made a point of letting his fingers brush hers as he handed her the cup back.

Sara said nothing, she looked thoroughly horrified herself as to what they all must have been thinking.

"Dancing, huh?" Gil asked of her.

"I'm not a good dancer," she shrugged, she sipped her coffee, looking down so that her hair hid her face.

"Well, uhm…I'm gonna go check my locker, see if any new deposits from my secret admirer have arrived," Catherine got up slowly, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

Greg got up too, "yeah, I'm gonna go start early, I have some unfinished work from yesterday."

Warrick and Nick made no excuse, they simply just got up and followed Greg and Catherine out of the room quickly.

"Jesus," Sara put her hand to her head, "my head is pounding…"

"Drink tends to do that to people," Gil retorted, "you know what they thought, don't you…they had that look on their faces…they thought I hit you…"

Sara seemed mortified by this, her eyes wide and then she looked down to the floor, unable to say anything to him at all.

Gil barely noticed this, still caught up in his own exasperation with what had happened moments ago, "I could see the little cogs working in their little overactive imaginations as they made their assumptions," Gil grunted, "I can't believe they looked at me like that…as if I would ever do something like that to anyone...don't they know me by now?" he asked in complete incredulity, his tone hostile.

"No one knows you, Gil," Sara reminded, her voice somewhat cold, "why didn't you say something to them? You knew what they were thinking…"

"Because I was shocked they would even think that of me…" Gil trailed off, and neither of them made any accusation, I couldn't just…jump on them without hearing it first…" He sighed, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't know what they were thinking until you just told me," Sara sipped her coffee, she seemed anxious.

"I'll have a word with them," Gil decided.

"You can't tell them about this morning…" Sara looked at him pleadingly.

"Why not?"

"Because you are blowing this thing you call 'a problem' way out of proportion, okay?" she asked.

Gil sighed, "I'm not blowing anything out of proportion, Sara. I came to your apartment, the door was wide open, music was blasting…the place was a mess…"

"Because I couldn't find the damn bottle opener for a bottle of wine," Sara folded her arms.

"So you started on the vodka, danced yourself stupid and fell over a chair."

"Actually I had drank vodka before looking for the bottle opener, but you're more or less right."

"Sara…" he said softly, "we're going to have to talk about this sooner or later."

Sara passed by him, shaking her head, "it's not a problem. It's nothing, and you're just freaking out because that's what you do…" she looked over her shoulder at him.

"You were drinking alone…drinking yourself into oblivion for all I know…" the familiar pains of the migraine began to persist gain and he pressed his fingers against his temples trying to focus some of the pain away.

"I thought we had the rule of not talking about our personal lives at work…rules about not bringing our personal lives to work with us," Sara shot.

"I know we had that rule, but lately I have to break rules. I figure if I'm going to break rules it might as well be my own," he sighed.

"Hey, this is stupid…it's not a problem, not anymore, okay?" she asked, "What's wrong with your head?" she looked at him worriedly, realizing he looked rather pained.

"Nothing," Gil responded miserably, "Sara…" he began and lost his train of thoughts completely by her asking what was wrong with him. Now he was completely unsure of what he'd been going to say to her.

"Can't we just forget about this and just remember how good things were this morning AFTER I left the bathroom?" she suggested.

Gil felt a smile play about his lips, although it was a feeble one at that.

"Come on, Gil, this morning was…amazing. Surely that has some importance?"

"Of course it does," Gil admitted quietly.

Sara smiled, "Good. Instead of worrying about stupid stuff like my having had a couple of drinks, try concentrating on…how amazing this morning was."

"If I did that I'd never get any work done," he confessed, but sighed, "Sara, I'm serious. I'm worried about you…please just tell me that you're going to stop drinking, and I'll let it alone. I'll stop harassing you about it if you can just…confirm what I need to hear right now"

"Is that what it takes, me to make a promise like that to set you at ease?"

Gil paused, then gave a nod, "it's enough to put my mind at rest."

"Fine, then I promise, I'll stop drinking," she touched his hand sneakily before leaving the break room to go to work.

Gil watched her leave, his heart heavy. Somehow, he felt her words were nothing more than an empty promise she wouldn't keep. She hadn't set him at ease, his mind was not put to rest.

* * *

Yes, yet another blah chapter (setting up exposition I guess, more is coming eventually, don't worry).

Thanks to the following reviewers :)

Phoenix38133, LGraziano, wandaa, saramakinson, Hope, csishewolf, saskia2, kristy87, Samantha, NimrodDuckie, Aidrianna, MYSTICAL PANTHER, E.K., andPhDelicious

I think that's everyone who reviewd from chapters 56 - 57 :)


	59. Chapter 59: Migraine

**Chapter 59**

**Migraine**

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****

By the middle of the shift, the migraine had begun to get steadily worse for Gil, and he was having a hard time concentrating on any of his work whatsoever. Sitting in his office with the lights at their dimmest seemed to help but it wasn't really the best situation for reading small fonts on white paper.

The harsh bright lights of the hallways were unwelcome, and he decided to avoid them as much as he could, whenever he would step into the hall, he'd slide on his sunglasses, not caring how ridiculous it looked he happened to be wearing them inside the building at nighttime.

Catherine came to see him at his office, having noticed his lack of presence anywhere else in the building where he seemed to be needed. She found him leaning over his desk holding a piece of paper practically an inch or two away from his face trying to read the text.

"Hey, you wanted to see me?" she asked, she held up her phone which indicated she'd gotten the voice mail he'd sent her earlier that night when she'd been out on the field.

"Yes," Gil put the paper down in front of her, "what does that say?"

Catherine raised an eyebrow and looked at the piece of paper, a certain word was smudged, and the text was tiny, "Uhm, I think it's 'psychotic'," she shrugged, "what's up?" she asked.

"This evening when Sara walked in. Don't think I didn't know what you were thinking," he tapped the cap of the pen he was holding on the bottom of his teeth absently, "I just want you to know you're wrong."

"I never said a word," Catherine replied calmly.

"No, but you were thinking it. Come on, Cath. If it had been anyone else I might have thought the same thing. Woman comes in with a bruise on her face – practically close to being a black eye – and the guy she's dating has marks on his neck…physical abuse, right?" he asked.

"No…" Catherine responded, "what I did think is that you guys probably got very…physical after your shift?" she mused. "C'mon, Grissom, how long have I known you?" she pointed out. "I know you better than anyone. You're not capable of that."

"Sometimes I wonder…" Gil trailed off, then shook his head, "could you just please let the others know that Sara did in fact, trip over a chair."

"So that part was true?" Catherine asked.

"I wasn't even there when it happened," he confessed, "when I got there, the chair was overturned."

"Okay, I'll let them know…" Catherine shrugged, "so…apart from her tripping over chairs, everything between you and Sara is going well?"

"Why so interested?" Gil asked as he picked up the piece of paper he'd been trying to read.

Catherine paused, "I don't know. Maybe lack of a love life of my own."

"I take it your secret admirer hasn't made any other advances then?" Gil asked.

She dropped herself into the chair opposite his desk, "why can't you just tell me who he is?" she asked with a groan.

Gil raised his eyes from his paper to hers, "he told me he'd tell you when he was ready. I trust he will. In the meantime, they say patience is a virtue."

"For you it is, maybe. For me it bugs the hell out of me," Catherine scratched the tip of her nose absently.

Gil heard her words and felt the irony of the fact he'd said patience is a virtue when he was becoming impatient as of late himself. The reason behind Sara's drinking, for example was leaving him very impatient, he was desperate to know what was going on behind those dark intense eyes of hers.

"You okay? You look paler than usual today."

"I'm fine, its like I said earlier, I haven't slept well…" he said distractedly, trying to get through with reading the paper, having a hard time concentrating on both the conversation and his work. Admittedly, he was having a hard time concentrating, period.

"Migraine?"

Gil raised his eyes to her, "how do you do that?" he asked.

"How do I do what?" Catherine asked innocently.

"Know things…?" he frowned.

"When you get a migraine you get this expression that's stuck between constipated and tearful," Catherine smirked, but then gave him a sympathetic expression, "you should go home. You could do more harm to your work than good."

"With the mound of stuff I have to do at my desk today I don't think I can afford to even take a half day off…" he confessed, "ever since I started dating Sara…I've found it even harder to keep up with paperwork because I don't max out on overtime to get it done anymore…"

Catherine stood slowly, "Listen, if I have time at the end of the day, I'll come and give you a hand," she offered, "but only if you tell me who my secret admirer is."

"I'm sworn to secrecy," Gil pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key.

"Your loss," Catherine responded, and left the office silently.

Gil sighed to himself watching her go, he sat for twenty-five more minutes before a knock at his office door disturbed him. He raised his eyes to see Greg enter.

"Cath said I should come and help…" Greg said with an unsure tone in his voice.

"What'd you do to tick her off?" Gil asked. He'd paired Catherine up with Greg on a casino robbery case and the only reason he could think of her sending Greg to help him was that Greg had caused some trouble and this was his punishment.

"I screwed up a piece of evidence – which I managed to fix but…yeah, I made her mad so…"

"Fine…" Gil picked up a pile of folders, "read through these inventory lists, take note of anything we're in short supply of," he noted, "and then fill out the order forms…and then you can leave them for me to sign, think you can handle that?"

"Yes," Greg said, noting the agitation in Gil's voice, "are you pissed off or something?"

"Why would you think that?" Gil asked, he moved to his file cabinet to put away three new reports.

"I have no idea…fight with Sara maybe?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Hey, when my friend comes to work with a black eye, it's my concern," Greg responded in quite a brash way that made Gil spin around. It wasn't often that Greg stood up for himself, mostly because he was so eager to please, and so intent on keeping his job, but Gil found it rather valiant that Greg would stand up for Sara – even when it was so blatantly obvious that Catherine had not told Greg the whole story.

"For your information," Gil began, he walked over and put his hands down on the desk, leering down at the young man who was now sitting in the other seat with a folder in his lap, "Sara doesn't have a black eye, she has a bruise on her cheekbone, not the same thing. Me and Sara didn't have a fight – either argument or physical. And I don't abuse women. I have never raised my hand to any woman in anger, let alone the woman I love."

Greg's dark eyes widened, he looked thoroughly panicked as if he thought Gil might swing at him. "Okay…I'm sorry."

"Your concern over Sara's well being is appreciated but not necessary."

"You love her?" Greg asked quietly.

Gil put his hand to his forehead, the throbbing was growing more persistent now, and raising his voice at Greg had only seemed to make it worse, "Greg, now is not the time to have this conversation…"

"But you said—"

"But it's irrelevant. It's nothing to do with anything relating to our job at the moment, and I have a ton of work to do right now, so if you please…" Gil gestured to the work in front of Greg.

Greg gave a nervous laugh and then fell silent and began to work at the inventory paperwork he'd been given.

Gil went back to the file cabinet to retrieve another file. He wished that he were out on the field right now getting fresh air. He'd missed so much field work because of paperwork lately that he was beginning to feel sickened every time he stepped into his office, knowing for at least seventy percent of the day he'd find himself confined to the desk.

_If I wasn't dating Sara, I wouldn't have so much of this right now,_ he thought dully. _But if I wasn't dating Sara, I'd be just as miserable and lonely as I was before. No win situation, either way I lose_.

He paused, thinking about earlier again. It kept coming back to haunt him, it bothered him, not knowing. Something was hurting her, something big enough to go to the extremes of alcohol abuse and he couldn't fathom it out.

A darkness swept over Gil's eyes as if everything in the room faded to black for just an instant. He lost his balance and gripped onto the file cabinet for support. He let out a little gasp of surprise. The pain sliced through his head like a knife, and he sucked in a breath. Somewhere in the back of his senses, he heard Greg ask if he was okay, but he couldn't somehow make himself respond.

"Grissom…what's up…you okay?"

Gil put both hands to his head, his thoughts swirled out of control, his body couldn't keep its balance, he felt himself fall to the side and hit the wall, some of the shelves came down with him and he heard the smash of several jars hitting the floor.

"Hey! I got you…" he heard Greg say, his voice seemed muffled and distant.

"I'm fine…I have to get this work done…" Gil said, the words even sounded absurd to himself even though the pain was making it so bad that he could barely understand what was going on around him anymore.

Blackness was sweeping over his vision, and even the slightest light was blinding him. He gripped his head, gritting his teeth through the pain, he felt Greg guide him to his chair, he sat there trying to gain his thoughts. Nothing was making sense.

"Cath!" he heard Greg crying somewhere outside of the office, the sound of yelling only seemed to add to the intensity of the pain. His ears and eyes felt hypersensitive.

"Calm down…" he heard Catherine saying to Greg, he felt Catherine's cool hands on his flushed face. "Greg, go get a cup of cold water…"

"What's cold water going to do? He's going to pass out or something!" Greg admonished.

"Just do it," Catherine said, she sounded incredibly calm, as if she dealt with this every single day.

Gil opened his eyes, everything was bright and fuzzy, Catherine's image ever so slightly distorted by the light.

"Where's your medication?" Catherine held his face up so he would look at her.

"Somewhere…in my jacket pocket…" he managed with a groan, he put his head in his hands.

Greg returned with the water, Catherine slammed the door shut quickly once he was inside, "don't speak to anyone about this, okay?" she asked. "It's just a migraine – probably from stress," she took the cup of water from him, located the bottle of pills from Gil's jacket pocket and took two out.

Gil accepted the pills and the water gratefully, "I'm fine," he tried to assure, although his vision was still incredibly bad, and the blackness kept passing over his eyes. Wouldn't be long before the pills set in and the pain began to slowly decrease.

"Yeah, fine is why you broke half your shelves," Catherine responded, "you need time off…"

"No…I'm fine, I just…need a minute or two…"

"No, you don't, you need to go home and de-stress…" Catherine said firmly.

Greg stood hovering near the doorway, his lanky frame casting odd shadows, "should I, uhm…go?"

"Yes," Catherine replied.

In unison with Catherine Gil answered, "No."  
"Do you have any regards for your health at all?" Catherine asked of Gil sternly.

"Not really."

"You're no good to the team like this."

"Look…the shift ends in three hours…" Gil tied to focus on his watch, he was having trouble so he had to guess.

"Three hours and ten minutes," Greg corrected.

"I think I can last until the end of the shift," Gil assured.

"Yeah…but what then? You can't drive like this…you're squinting, can you even see right?"

"By the time the pills have worked their magic charm, yeah," Gil shrugged, "stop worrying. I'll be fine."

"God forbid anyone should actually worry or care," Catherine folded her arms.

Greg spoke up, "Is he always this…uh…"

"Pigheaded? Yeah," Catherine responded, "Grissom. Fine, if you want to stay and play office with a migraine and bad vision, then be my guest, but be warned, you could end up doing your health more harm than good."

Gil sighed, "you know, right now, I don't care, I have what looks like two weeks worth of paperwork accumulated over three days, six unsolved cases – two of which are murders. I have the whole teams quarterly evaluations to take care of, I haven't slept more than an hour, and the coffee in here tastes like caffeinated cats urine mixed with tar,so forgive me if I just couldn't really give a shit about a migraine which will eventually pass."

Catherine blinked, surprised by his tone.

Greg looked away and muttered, "ouch," under his breath at the way Gil had just spoke to his colleague and long time friend.

"Greg, out," Catherine glanced towards him, "me and Grissom are going to have words."

"My pleasure," Greg responded sheepishly, and all too quickly sailed out of the door closing it behind him.

"What the hell is your problem?" Catherine demanded the second Greg had left, she sat on the edge of the desk folding her arms.

Gil closed his eyes, trying to block out the light that was making his head burn inside, "my problem is…I don't know what my problem is…" he sighed to himself, "Cath, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I'm under stress, I'm swamped here, I can't get out in the field to do my job…this paperwork never seems to go away…"

"Don't bullshit me, this isn't about the job. I've seen you stressed about the job, this is different…I can't pinpoint why, but I know it."

"Work is part of it," Gil shrugged, he rubbed his forehead, "Cath, believe me, if I could explain what the other part was, I would, but…right now, I don't even know…"

His mind soared back to thoughts of Sara of what was now yesterday morning. Her mood had shifted so quickly before he'd had a chance to try and establish what the problem was. If there was a problem at all. He wanted to ask himself if Sara was being honest that there was nothing wrong, and he was just overreacting to something that wasn't even an issue. If there wasn't a problem, why was she drinking…alone? Getting so drunk that she could leave her apartment looking like the Tazmanian devil from the Warner Brothers cartoons had just spun in and out like a mini tornado.

Catherine broke his chain of thoughts, "what don't you know?"

"That's just it," Gil opened his eyes to look up at her, finally his vision beginning to slightly adjust to the light, so that he could see the blur of Catherine's face, "I just don't know…"

Catherine stood up, she smoothed down the jacket of her pants suit, "Grissom…I don't even know what you're talking about anymore, you're not making much sense, and I don't know if this will even help…but let me remind you of some words of wisdom that you passed onto me once many years ago…" she put her hand on his shoulder lightly, "sometimes not knowing is what gets you through the day."

Gil tried to tell himself that for the remainder of the shift, but it wasn't consolation enough.

* * *

Another blah chapter, I'm getting to the good stuff eventually (maybe after I've actually slept would be good).

jtbwriter, the last chapter wasn't meant to be confusing and the sex isn't anything to do with the problem. She is fine with the love making, it isn't the issue, lol. It might look confusing, because, lets face, it I've had insomnia for so long and passed out three times now, my writing might be a little whacked right now, but I'm addicted to writing this while the ideas are fresh in my head so I can't seem to stop it, lol.

Reviewers: Thanks for reviewing, I'll name you all in 60 ;)


	60. Chapter 60: I Need You

**Chapter 60**

**I Need You**

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By the end of the shift, even though his vision had improved, the pain in his head – even with the help of his prescription medication – wasn't leaving him. Several factors such as bad lighting, too much work to sift through, and the after effects of coffee left him feeling rather frail by the end of the day.

He still had too much work to clear out of his office before the next shift would begin, and with Catherine and Greg's help – thanks to an hours overtime – he somehow managed to clear his desk of all the paperwork, which he felt was somewhat a miracle in itself. The worry that had been weighing him down lightened a little, although the migraine didn't.

"That's the last of it," Catherine dropped a folder into the out tray on Gil's desk and dusted her hands off as if the paper had tainted her with dirt. She glanced at her watch, "I have to rush and get Lindsay ready for school…" she sighed, noting it was past seven.

"Go," Gil forced a grateful smile, "thanks for your help, by the way."  
"Don't let it pile up again," Catherine pulled her jacket on, "Greg, drive him home. Don't let him drive home himself," she warned.

Greg saluted her, he was pulling on his own jacket, he looked as tired as Gil felt.

Gil sighed, "I don't need a ride home," he assured, he pondered if maybe he should walk, the fresh air might be helpful. Then the thought of harsh sunlight even filtered through his sunglasses reminded him even that might be difficult.

"I'm not THAT bad a driver," Greg forced a smirk.

Gil couldn't find the strength in him to complain anymore.

The three left the building together, and the moment the sunlight hit Gil's face, the blinding pain returned with a vengeance, leaving him temporarily with blurred vision again.

Greg had a firm grip on his shoulder and led him to the car. Gil felt entirely humiliated, as if he were being chaperoned to a police car by an armed officer. "Watch your head," Greg said as he opened the door for Gil.

Gil got into the passengers seat, he slipped his sunglasses off, and rubbed his eyes, trying to desperately ignore the white flashing spots he was seeing on his eyelids.

He heard Catherine chanting a goodbye outside of the car before Greg had revved the engine. The sounds of the engine, of tires on the asphalt, and even the tiniest bump on the road, all contributed to make the migraine even worse than it had been.

After having to speak to confirm the address he had to drive to, Greg was silent for most of the ride, he never even turned the radio on, much to Gil's surprise. By now, Gil had expected he'd be listening to music for the tone deaf and psychotically disturbed while Greg banged his head in time to the faintest resemblance of a beat.

"So…how long have you suffered migraines?" Greg finally asked, he'd stopped a at a red light, he was tapping his hands on the wheel absently.

"Stop that," Gil winced at the noise, "and I'd rather not talk if I can help it…" he confessed, even the sound of his own voice felt like it was rattling his very brain inside his skull.

Greg ignored this, "why didn't you just tell us in the first place? Why has it got to be a secret?"

"Because it's no ones business," Gil uttered, "are we there yet?" he asked, his eyes still covered with his hands, trying to block out every single fraction of the harsh morning sunlight.

"Nearly," Greg assured, "you know…you probably shouldn't have overloaded on so much coffee today…probably what made it worse."

Gil felt like strangling him, why couldn't he just stay silent. "I'm aware of this, yes," he uttered under his breath.

The next few moments were quiet apart from the heavy sounds of the street, and the engine. Finally, the car died, and silence followed, Gil took his hands away from his eyes to see the familiar – albeit blurry – sight of his house.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. About me driving you home – or the migraine," Greg assured.

Gil nodded, and opened the passenger door, "it'd be wise to remain quiet," were his final words to the younger man. He waved, and then headed up the path to his townhouse. He heard Greg drive away just as he reached his front door, he fumbled with the keys for several moment, the key to his office at work and the key to the yale lock for his front door were extremely similar, and with his eyesight slightly blurred by the migraine, he wasn't able to make out which was which.

He felt a hand upon his shoulder and he spun around, letting out a cry of surprise, only to see the very fuzzy image of Sara standing there. His heart had almost leapt out of his chest, he leaned back against the door, "jesus…why'd you sneak up on me…?"

"Sorry," Sara was smiling, "why'd Greg drive you home?"

"I lost my car keys at work," Gil lied, he turned back to the door and stared down at the keys, "how long have you been waiting around here?" he asked tiredly.

"About half an hour…I was parked across the street waiting for you to get home, I figured it wouldn't be too much longer…" she was looking at him curiously, "something wrong?"

"No…" he trailed off, trying to distinguish the keys. He'd made the mistake of slipping his office key into the lock of his house door before, and ended up with it getting stuck, breaking the key, having to replace his house locks and the key to his office. He wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

"Why are you staring at the keys like you've never seen keys before?" Sara asked sounding slightly amused.

"Which one of these has 'yale' written on it?" he asked, "I'm sorry, my glasses…I left them at work," he confessed.

Sara picked the keys up from his hand, "yale," she held up one of the keys and slipped it into the lock for him, "You need new glasses?"

"No…just a new head," he mumbled almost incoherently, he let Sara be the first to enter into his house, and he followed her all the way inside, he slipped his jacket off and left it over the kitchen counter.

"Dark in here," Sara noted all the blinds were closed, the only slithers of light coming from the small gaps at either end between the windows. She dropped the house keys on the counter beside his jacket.

"Just the way I like it…please…don't open the blinds," he pleaded.

Sara turned to look at him, "why…? Is the light bothering you?"

_I'm going to have to tell her sooner or later about the migraines. I don't want her sympathy, but…if I don't tell her, and she has to hear it from someone else, she might feel a little…upset. She wants to know me, that means ailments and all_.

Gil sighed, "you might as well know right now," he felt his eyesight beginning to improve here in the darkness and comfort of his own home, "because if I don't tell you, Greg eventually will anyway," he added. "I have a blinding migraine right now," he leaned against the counter.

Sara stepped closer, "you've been this way all night?"

"Started yesterday afternoon, and hasn't stopped," he sighed.

"Do you get them often?"

"Every once in a while," he shrugged.

"What do you take for them?"

"Amerge," he answered quickly, "don't worry, I have it under control."

"You have a nerve telling me not to worry after yesterday," Sara retorted, but then her voice softened. "What was it you said…when you walk into a relationship, suddenly you just can't worry about yourself anymore…"

Gil felt defeat, she was right, he had said something along those lines, and had his mind not been under onslaught of pain, he might have been able to even remember his exact words. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain without much success.

"I guess I should be thankful you're at least telling me something about yourself," Sara slid her hands behind his neck, lowered his head a little, and lightly touched her lips to his forehead in a gentle kiss.

Gil gave a soft moan at the tiny comfort her kiss provided. He'd felt he'd unwelcome any sympathy she offered, but this was somewhat reassuring.

"Anything else you want to tell me?" Sara asked softly.

"I'm working on it."

"C'mon, lets get you to bed," she said softly.

Gil had no argument for this, and no strength to refuse her as she led him to his bedroom. She took care of him like she'd been doing it all her life, she undressed him slowly, carefully. Every now and then planting soft kisses on his forehead. She helped him into bed even though he was quite capable doing this himself, she spread the blankets over him tenderly, planting one last kiss on his forehead before moving away to get ready for bed too.

He watched her through his bleary eyes as she removed all of her clothes save her white cotton underwear – her back turned to him so that he could admire the curve of her spine and the freckles on the back of her shoulders. She slipped into the same t-shirt he'd been wearing only moments before she'd removed it from his body.

Even in his agony, he found himself absurdly realizing how much better it looked on her, as it drooped from her narrow shoulders, and hung from the gentle curve of her breasts, falling just above the top of her thighs.

_She still doesn't like to sleep naked_, he thought. _Either that or she's accepting that I just can't make love right now in this condition._

She slid into the bed with him, and stared at him across the pillows, "why didn't you tell me about the migraines before?" she asked softly.

"It wasn't an issue," he responded softly, he closed his eyes, feeling the gentle tug of sleep beginning to pull at him, "it's like you and the birth control…its your business…and didn't have anything to do with me…" he explained, "you didn't think I needed to know…"

Sara slid closer to him, "not exactly the same thing."

"Close enough…" he murmured, his consciousness beginning to slide away as sleep grew nearer and nearer, he moved closer to her, sensing the heat of her body near him, he draped his arm over her, and let his head rest against her left breast, enjoying the comfort of being against her.

Sara smiled, and caressed his cheek lightly, "you remind me of a kid when you do that," she admitted.

"Hmm?" he asked, nearly drifting into sleep now.

"When you curl up against me like this," Sara answered, she stroked her fingers through his hair. "It's…nice…it feels like you need me."

"I do need you," he yawned, he pulled her into him closer as if she were a very large human pillow, "I need you…to shut up…and go to sleep…so I can sleep this migraine off."

Sara let out a soft chortle, the happiness in her voice made him temporarily forget about how empty she'd sounded the day before. And he was happy of it, to be momentarily fooled into thinking everything was fine. "Okay. Go to sleep."

Gil didn't even hear her words, he'd already drifted off.

* * *

Thanks to the following people for reviewing :)

jbr12476, CrysWimmer, CSI-phreak, csishewolf, Wishing on the Moon, LGraziano, anonymous, NimrodDuckie, Mystical Panther, Aidriana, kristy87, jtbwriter, sarahmakinson, csibugman,

CSI-phreak: Sara said the shot and the steak comment AFTER she would have become a vegetarian. She said she hadn't been able to eat meat since the incident with the pig in episode 10 of season 1. Table Stakes is listed as being episode 15 of season 1. Also, I've seen her wear suede in the show,so she might have been put off eating meat (which is possible this is to do more with the fact she was sickened by it rather than emotionally bothered by it) but apparently doesn't mind wearing animal hyde. In fact, if you want to be specific, if you look at the jacket she's wearing in Gil's house in episode 23 of season 1 (Strip Strangler) you can see she's wearing amedium-brown suede jacket. shrugs. It's only fanfic anyway.


	61. Chapter 61: Toast

**Chapter 61**

**Toast**

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****

When Gil woke up, he was relieved the migraine was no longer with him. Not even the slightest tinge of pain bothered him now as he sat up to stretch and yawn.

Instinctively, he turned to see Sara, remembering having dozed off beside her peacefully earlier in the morning, now finding himself alone in the bed. He felt the instant disappointment she wasn't there, and sighed to himself, deciding she'd probably gone home to change clothes, and take care of some things at home before leaving for work. Work was only three hours away.

He pulled himself up, and pulled on a robe before venturing out of the bedroom. Everything in the apartment was just as he had left it, nothing had been moved, his jacket and housekeys were still on the kitchen counter, and the blinds on all the windows were still closed.

Gil moved to the nearest window to open the blinds and stare out into the street. Everything was bathed in the late afternoon sunlight, the hues spoke of promise of a beautiful sunset yet to come. Gil stared out over the street he had stared over a thousand times, seeing Sara's car parked across the street.

Wait…she's not gone, he realised. His eyes caught the familiar sight of Sara standing on the small untended front lawn of his house, her feet bare, she was still in his t-shirt, but she'd been decent enough to put on the pants she'd been wearing yesterday. He felt a strange twinge of horror that she was speaking to Mrs. Ashcroft, his next door neighbour.

He sighed. Each Halloween the Ashcroft kids would come at his door for candy – and be repulsed by his donation of chocolate covered grasshoppers. Each Thanksgiving, Mrs. Ashcroft would invite him to dinner – which he would always decline. That was as far as his relationship – if it could be called that – with his neighbour went.

It wasn't that he didn't like the family, it was more to do with the fact that his world and their worlds just didn't have any necessary need to collide, and normally he left it at that.

So what was Sara doing chatting to this woman on his lawn? He shuddered to think what she might be saying to Mrs. Ashcroft. Mrs. Ashcroft had more than a good reputation for being the resident gossip on the street. He'd overheard her himself once or twice himself when she'd thought he wasn't around. Sound carried, even in the small aisles of the local convenience store.

Being observant, Gil noted the cigarette in Sara's right hand, which was dangling down at her side, her left hand was on her hip.

_God, what is she saying_? Gil wondered. Sara's head was turned away from him, and Mrs. Ashcroft spoke too fast to be able to lip-read from this distance. He winced, he wasn't eager to be the next most interesting piece of gossip in the quiet little street.

Sara was nodding, and he heard the distant trill of her laughter as Mrs. Ashcroft cracked a joke. Mrs. Ashcroft – despite her bad habits of telling everyone other peoples business – had the most wonderful sense of humour. If Gil hadn't been so intent on his privacy, he might have actually liked the woman.

Sara took a quick drag from the cigarette, and flicked it into a nearby drain grating, she tucked her hair behind her ear, she raised her hand to wave at Mrs. Ashcroft, then turned to head up the path towards the house.

_Why is she smoking anyway? I thought she'd quit. Isn't that why she was always chewing on that Nicorette Gum? _Gil moved away from the window, and stood there waiting until Sara entered.

Sara came inside, and had the look of guilt on her face once she saw him there standing near enough the window that it seemed obvious he might have seen her, "Oh...hi."

"Hi," Gil forced a fake bright smile, "met Lily Ashcroft I see."

"Uh…yeah."

"Smoking…again."

Sara laughed nervously, "it's a hard habit to quit," she shrugged, "I didn't want to smoke inside your house – since you don't smoke – so I went outside."

"What were you saying to the fishwife out there?" he asked.

"She was…asking questions. Does she even know what you do for a living?"

"Nope," Gil answered.

"Well…I wasn't sure what to say…I know you're kind of private about this kind of stuff…" Sara shrugged, "And…she asked me if I was family…so…"

"So?" Gil raised an eyebrow.

"I told her I was your sister visiting for a few days…"

Gil shuddered, there was something very wrong about that statement, "that's worse than her knowing we're lovers. Sounds like some giant cover up story…like we're having some secret affair. She's the local gossip, she's got it all figured out already, I'm sure…" he rolled his eyes.

"See, if you weren't so much of a dark horse, you wouldn't have problems like this…" Sara smirked, quite amused by this. "I don't know, it might be kind of fun to let the woman think we're having a secret affair and I'm pretending to be your sister."

"That's your idea of fun?" Gil asked in disbelief.

"Excuse me, you're no authority on fun, your idea of fun is racing cockroaches," Sara folded her arms, still smirking. "How's your head?"

"It's fine…"

Sara looked to the clock, "so…we have…just less than three hours before we start our shift," she pointed out.

"Three hours, huh?" he glanced towards the clock, "so…?"

"So…" Sara moved forward to kiss him, he put his hands up in his defense.

"Excuse me. Smokers breath," he ducked out of the way, "pet hate."

Sara faked a pout, "fine. I'll go brush my teeth."

Gil led the way to the bathroom, stifling a yawn. He felt Sara's hand gentle on his back as they walked. He glanced over his shoulder at her, "how'd you sleep?"

"Like a baby…"

They entered the bathroom together, and went about brushing their teeth. Gil was aware of how she watched him do this, but he couldn't help notice himself doing the same to her, couldn't help observe. Sara brushed her teeth slowly, carefully, whilst he was fast, and vigorous. He compared it in amusement.

Sara rinsed her mouth and stood by the sink once she was finished, she watched him, her arms folded comfortably.

"Don't watch me, it freaks me out," he said awkwardly with his toothbrush still in his mouth.

"Sorry," Sara laughed a little, she moved behind him and slipped her arms around his waist, she let her cheek rest against his shoulder blade.

Gil watched her in the mirror, he could just see the top of her head behind his shoulder, he looked down to see her hands on his stomach. He spit toothpaste into the sink and bent down to rinse his mouth out under the faucet, he felt Sara's hands move from his hips to his back in a gentle stroke as he did so. He felt like sighing in complete bliss. If he'd known five years ago things would have been this good, he would have never avoided getting into a relationship with her at all.

He turned to her, taking her by the shoulders, "why were you smoking?" he rubbed her shoulders affectionately.

"Because…I had a craving. It happens. Haven't you ever had an addiction?"

Gil tried to think, "apart from coffee…no."

"Coffee counts. It's a stimulant."  
"Fair enough," he shrugged, "when are we going to talk about the other day?"

"Nothing to talk about, remember?" Sara leaned up to peck his lips.

Gil accepted her kiss, he pecked her lips back, "but still…remember when you were talking to my answering machine…you said something about something you thought I knew…"

"Mmmhmm?" she asked distractedly, she kissed him softly.

Gil tried to break the kiss, "so what was it?" he asked.

"Nothing," she trailed kisses along his jaw, fumbling with the tie on his robe.

_No, don't let her do this again, she's using sex as a distraction_, he thought at himself. "Seriously, Sara…I need to talk about this with you," he sighed, her kisses were now gliding down the side of his neck, along his collarbone. "I'd really like to know what's going on…"

She kissed his adams apple, and he found it difficult to swallow. His grip on her tightened a little.

"Sara…can't we just talk?" he put his hands firmly on her arms, he tried to push her back but part of him was only more eager to pull her closer.

"Dirty talk?" she joked.

_She's deliberately avoiding this conversation, God, she can be so infuriating_…

Her hand brushed against him beneath the robe. If he hadn't been aroused when she'd started kissing him, he certainly was now.

"Stop that," he grumbled into her ear, "I'm serious, I want to talk."

"Later," she said, she pushed his robe past his shoulders so that he was standing naked in front of her. Her hands skimmed his, her lips following.

Gil sighed, "Sara, don't make me say it…" he watched her. She seemed to be ignoring him, too distracted with what she was doing to take heed of anything he was saying whatsoever.

Sara was falling on her knees, her lips trailing kisses down his stomach.

"Sara, I don't want to say it…" he swallowed nervously.

Ignoring him, she had him in her hand, he could see by the look on her face she wasn't the least interested in hearing what he had to say on any matter at the moment.

_Okay, that does it_, he thought. _This has gone too far. I'm not going to be ignored here…_

He cleared his throat before she had a chance to get too far with what she was about to do. He spoke loud and clearly the one word they'd agreed on would be their safeword. "Toast."

It sounded so absurd coming out of his mouth right at that moment. It wasn't a word that belonged in a bathroom. It wasn't even a word that belonged in this situation. But it had to be said nonetheless.

Sara's eyes, which had been closed lightly, snapped open, she was on her knees looking up at him in complete confusion. She looked as if she wanted to say 'excuse me', but couldn't quite blurt it out.

He put his hands under her arms and brought her up so she was standing, "I don't want to make love. I don't want to be touched, and pleased and most importantly, I don't want to be ignored. I want to talk…" he picked up his robe and pulled it back on, feeling uncomfortably awkward.

Sara was speechless for several moments, "what is your problem?" she finally demanded, she threw her hands up in frustration.

"My problem is you're avoiding my question, and I'm sorry, but getting down on your knees to perform any kind of sexual act isn't going to distract me from asking anything."

Sara looked away, a guilty look on her face, "look, I have enough stress in my life without you pressing this…"

Gil put his hands on her face, "Look at me…"

Sara met his eyes momentarily, her dark eyes were angry.

"I love you, and I can't stand NOT knowing what's hurting you."

"What makes you so damn sure something is hurting me?" Sara pushed his hands away from her, "I don't even think this is about the fact you think it's hurting me. I think this is the fact that you hate not knowing things. It drives you crazy."

Gil frowned, "is that what you think, that I don't care!"

"If you cared, you'd let me tell you in my own time! I'd like to forget about it, period, but you just won't let me!" she turned to walk away.

Gil grabbed her arm to stop her, "We're not finished 'discussing' this yet. Don't you dare walk away from me, Sara," he said through gritted teeth.

Sara hauled her arm back roughly, her eyes were full of fiery rage, "watch me," she uttered, and left the bathroom, slamming the door closed.

Gil put his hand to his face. _Couldn't just leave it alone, couldn't just be happy for once and stop analyzing everything, You had to get under her skin to find out what's going on. Couldn't just make love and be content and let her tell you in her own time, no. Couldn't let her forget…_

He stood and stared at the closed bathroom door. _In trying to get closer to her…you've just pushed her away._

* * *

Yeah, we're getting OOC, I dunno, I have to write what's coming to me. I don't know if it's me coming up with this or a person in my head...I'm just writing. Ah.

Thanks to the people who keep reviewing...god, 400 reviews...it seems almost IMPOSSIBLE that I could have gotten that many reviews over a month...it's frightning, but in a good way :) It makes my day to see them all, still. THe first thing I do when I get on my comp is check for reviews, I get all excited :)

I'll mention the reviewers in the next chapter :)

Ash (Sunrays and Saturdays).


	62. Chapter 62: Unfixable

**Chapter 62**

**Unfixable**

* * *

Gil let Sara leave his house without chasing her. She'd already gotten outside by the time he'd left the bathroom and he wasn't about to start begging her not to leave him in front of all the neighbours.

He left a message on her answering machine requesting she call him when she got home, but for two hours he waited at home to hear from her and she didn't call him back. He decided not to be pushy, he didn't try to call again. He decided for now he would leave it, give her time to cool off, and give himself time to think about what he would do next.

The walk to work was long, and had him tired before he'd even gotten there. When he went to hand out the assignments, everyone was unnaturally quiet, which left him wondering if Catherine had even mentioned to Warrick and Nick that he had not hit Sara.

Sara's stoic attitude towards him during the handing out of assignments was enough to raise any other suspicions. She wouldn't look at him, and replied to him with a tone devoid of any emotion or enthusiasm. Gil had noted the raised eyebrows of the others, and felt disgraced.

He'd intended to go out on the field with Warrick today, but felt so completely isolated from the team – he didn't want to be near anyone. He assigned himself to the labs doing several experiments to prove theories on a case right, which helped take his mind off of most of his troubles. Being able to get into some real work again provided him with just enough solace to get through half of his shift.

But once he was done with it, the thoughts began to return. Trying to keep himself busy, he decided to do some of the employee evaluations he'd neglected to do earlier in the week. He managed to cover Catherine and Greg on the case they were working on. Their evaluations came out fine – Greg's work still needing some improvement. Nick was still out on the field, so his evaluation would still need to wait. Warrick and Sara, however, still had their evaluations to be done.

He would have rather left Sara until last, or not at all, even trying to deal with her work just reminded him of the argument in the bathroom. Still, this had to be done. He couldn't ignore work, or it would come back to haunt him.

Gil waited until both Warrick and Sara were interrogating a suspect, and he slid into the small observation room behind the one way glass of the interview room. Gil stared through the glass, he had a clipboard in his hand, evaluation sheet at the ready, determined to pick out any flaw, or any particular accomplishment in their interrogation skills.

Sara was anxious, he could tell right away, she had a look on her face he'd seen before and had to think long and hard to remember when. She clenching and unclenching her fist, her wrist pressed on her thigh under the table so that the suspect wouldn't see her doing this. It indicated agitation. Gil noticed it right away.

Gil sucked in a breath, he could tell something was going to wrong, and yet, somehow, he knew he wouldn't have been able to prevent it if he'd tried. It happened so fast he hadn't even been sure what had been said, but Sara was raising her voice. Accusing the suspect of wife beating. Gil now knew why she had that look on her face.

Every time a case with domestic abuse came up, that was when Sara began to get emotional, uptight, and somewhat violent. He'd tried to keep her from those cases as best he could but even he didn't have a clue of what he was handing out until the cases had been properly investigated.

Gil put the clipboard down.

"You think we don't see this every day? Women covered in bruises, husband trying to cover up with stupid pathetic lies?" Sara was saying, her voice loud and sharp, her eyes were like liquid black venom.

"Who the hell do you think you are, you don't know shit!" the suspect, a black man in his forties, was retorting, his eyes were just as dangerous as Sara's.

Sara did the stupid thing of pointing her finger at him, "I know enough to have you arrested for domestic abuse! For attempted murder!"

Gil knew how agitated that would make any suspect, but when Sara did it, she had this look on her face that just invited trouble. Gil saw the suspect go for her, leap right across the table with hands towards her throat. He saw Warrick and the police officer in the room dart towards the suspect to haul him off of her, Sara's back hit the glass.

Gil dropped the clipboard to the floor and rushed towards the interview room, not caring about the red light outside indicating interview in session. He threw the door open and rushed in. Sara was trying to break free of the grip from the suspect, Warrick and the police officer had trouble prying the large man off of her. He had his hands around her throat and had no intention of letting go

Gil somehow got between them, crying out in frustration, "get him off of her!" he screamed at Warrick and the young cop, he shifted his weight with all he had to push the suspect away from Sara until the guy had to let go of her.

Sara somehow got away and dashed towards the door, she was outside in a flash. Gil waited until he was sure Warrick and the cop had the suspect firmly in their grip and under control, before he left the room to find Sara.

Sara was standing in the hall, breathless, her hands on her throat, "I'm fine," she croaked.

"The hell you are," Gil frowned. He wanted to be able to comfort her, he wanted to put his arms around her, but the hallway, in the way of surveillance cameras and passing colleagues just wasn't the place for it. Something deep in his heart told him that this shouldn't have mattered, but he still couldn't bring himself to do it. "We need to get you checked out by a doctor," he pried her hands away from her neck to see."

"Leave it," Sara pushed him off, "jesus, I can deal with this okay?"

"My office, now," Gil gestured down the hall. He made Sara walk in front of him so he could observe her behavior. She was shaking, but doing a good job of holding in the frustration he could see lingering just beneath the surface of her cool façade.

They stepped into his office, he shut the door, and drew the blinds closed so that no one could peer in.

"Fire me if you're going to fire me, just get it over with," Sara uttered under her breath.

"I want an explanation," Gil said, "are you crazy? You just went off on that guy…do you know how stupid that was!"

Sara gave a shrug that said she just didn't care anymore, she looked away from him, her cheeks flushed, she was still shaking.

Gil clenched his fists, "every time you get on one of these domestic abuse cases, you go off your head like some crazy woman…do you have a deathwish?"

"No," Sara muttered, she took a deep breath, "I lost my temper and I'm sorry."

"You lost your temper?" he asked, "that guy had his hands around your throat! You could have lost your life!"

Sara turned her eyes on him, "he did it, Grissom! I know that look – he had it plastered on his face!"

Gil put his hands on her shoulders, "you don't know nothing until you can prove it…" he said firmly.

"The wife is bruised, she's not telling anyone what he did…the husband is making up excuses for how she got bruised. She fell down the stairs… I mean come on!" Sara cried.

"Yes, come on!" Gil grunted, "you have a bruise on your face, and I told Cath and Greg you fell over a chair. I didn't hit you, me and you both know that. No one else can prove it. How it looks isn't always what it seems! Remember that!"

Sara pulled away from him, "you just don't get it!"

"What don't I get?" he lowered his voice. "I get that you get too close to the victims, that you keep putting yourself in their shoes, but the only thing it's doing is driving you crazy, and I can't keep bailing you out every time you go off on another suspect for hitting his spouse."

Sara shook her head at Gil, "y'know what, every time I'm on one of these cases, it rips me apart…"

"I know that, and I try hard as I can to stop you from being assigned them. But sooner or later, you have to be able to handle these cases, Sara. It's your job…"

"I know that, god, I know that," Sara dropped herself into the seat in front of his desk, she put her head in her hands.

Gil spent some time looking at her, trying to work out what was going on in her head right at that moment. He moved over to his file cabinet and opened it, pulling out her file, he let her sit there in silence while he checked on the last few cases she'd worked on. "Sexual abuse on a minor…" Gil trailed off. "The last case you worked on before your day off…"

He tried to pinpoint certain dates in his head when she'd come to work with the noticeable signs of a hangover or the stench of alcohol still following her. "Rape of a minor," he listed off, "domestic abuse…domestic abuse…sexual abuse of a minor…rape of a minor…" he noted them off. "And now today…domestic abuse…" he drew his breath, he put down the folder with her files in it.

_Oh…my…God. How could I have missed this stuff? I should have noticed this, I should have been more attentive…how could I have my own head so far up my ass that I could have neglected this stuff_!

Sara remained quiet still, she was sitting quiet, her hands now in her lap, although they were shaking.

_How could I have missed the look in her eyes…the look I've seen on those kids, the wives…the women raped and abused…How could I have missed it in Sara's eyes. How could she have hidden it from me so well?_

"Sara…?" Gil tried to soften his voice, "is…this something to do with…what we were talking about?"

Sara got up quickly and headed towards the door.

"Don't walk away from me two times in one night, Sara…" Gil said softly. "I might be making a complete asshole of myself in the process but I'm trying to help…trying to understand…" he stood behind his desk watching her.

Sara stopped and turned, "sometimes I just want to forget…" she said softly, her eyes glittered with fresh tears she refused to let free. "There's nothing you can do to fix this, Grissom. It's unfixable."

Gil swallowed back the emotion he felt welling up in his throat, "maybe I can't fix it…but I can try…try to do something…anything…anything you need to help the pain go away…"

Sara's eyes dropped to the ground.

"Trying to forget won't fix whatever happened…" he moved towards her. "It won't change anything and it won't prevent it from coming back to haunt you either."

Sara didn't say anything, she didn't even look at him as he spoke.

"Seeing you like this…it…scares me…it kills me…" he confessed, "when someone you love is hurting, it hurts you too…" he sighed, "I can deal with my own pain…but I can't stand seeing you in pain…you hurt…" he reached over and took one of her shaking hands within his.

Sara's chest rose and fell with a long unhappy sigh, "I have to deal with this myself…otherwise…I'm just weak."

"No…you're not weak, you're strong..." Gil drew in a nervous breath, "you're even stronger than I am. And I love you for that…" he admitted, he squeezed her hand.

Sara bit down on her lip, falling deep into her thoughts.

"Sara…I'm going to take you home…and I want you to talk to me…I want you to tell me everything…and I'm going to sit and listen to every word."

"And then?" Sara asked, she met his eyes.

"And then I'm going to love you even more than I did before."

* * *

Normally I'd mention everyone who reviewed from 60-61, but there hasn't been many because I've updated fast. So I'll wait until 64 and catch them all then (plus the reviews page is taking ages to load up).

I promise i'll do it in 64.

Yeah, I know, I'm going to recieve complaints of being OOC, etc etc. I'm trying, but I'm tired and weak lol.

Ash


	63. Chapter 63: Sara's Story

**Chapter 63**

**Sara's Story**

* * *

****

Gil decided to take her to his home rather than her own. It seemed like the right thing to do – seemed safer. At his home, she couldn't go and fix herself a drink, and that's what he'd dreaded. Something deep inside told him it might be the first thing she'd want to do when she got to her apartment.

Sara was quiet on the journey, not that he blamed her. Anyone in her situation would have been just as silent. As he drove, he snuck a glance at her, examining the bruising around her neck that had begun to appear from her struggle with the suspect. He felt an ache of guilt throb through his veins.

I should have been paying more attention, I could have prevented any of this from happening…but as usual…I wasn't noticing what was going on – right under my nose…

The walk up the path to his house seemed to take years, he walked beside her, slipping his arm around her shoulders, suddenly not caring what the neighbours might think. He kissed her temple, and led her to the front door, this time, he didn't have to fumble trying to differentiate which key was which. The door was opened, and they stepped inside the dark cave of the hallway.

Sara remained beside him in the dark, he felt her hand grip his, he heard her let out the softest sigh. Gil closed the front door with his free hand, and turned to look at her, she was silhouetted, barely visible in the light that was seeping through the open blinds.

They stood like that in the dark for some moments. Gil didn't know what to do next. He wanted to switch on the light, but for some reason, he resisted doing so. He wasn't sure who was supposed to speak first. Sara, or himself.

She's the guest, you're the host, you should be turning on the lights, leading her to the couch, and making her drink herbal tea to calm her down after what she's just been through, he thought at himself. So why aren't you doing that?

Sara shifted from foot to foot in the darkness, she gave another soft sigh. He reached over to take her in his arms in the darkness, and felt her cave against him, as if she was relieved to have him hold her.

Gil wrapped his arms around her to hold her to him close as he could without hurting her, he felt her bury her face between his shoulder and neck, felt her hot uneven breath tickling his flesh.

_Let her speak when she's ready_, he told himself. _I already think I know the basics…she can fill in the blanks when she's ready to do so_.

He stroked her hair tenderly, listening to the sounds of her breathing, trying not to let the tickles of her breath on his neck get under his skin. It was strange, suddenly, he'd never wanted to make love to anyone so much.

_It's her vulnerabilit_y, he thought_. It's a turn on, because I'm a man and men find vulnerable women irresistible…but it's wrong. I can't think about this now…_

It seemed too late to tell himself this, his body was already reacting, his hands were instinctively sliding up the back of her jacket and under her shirt to caress her soft skin.

Am I taking advantage here? He wondered. As if in response to his thoughts, Sara placed a soft kiss on his neck, her hands following his, up behind his shirt, touching his hot flesh. Okay, so maybe I'm not the only one taking advantage, he thought, he craned his neck to touch his lips softly to hers, and they stood kissing in the dark for several moments.

He broke the kiss, stepping away from her, taking her hands to lead her towards the bedroom. As wrong as his mind was telling him this was, it definitely didn't feel wrong, in fact, it had never felt more right.

"We can stop at any time," Gil murmured to her as he led her through the open door into his bedroom.

Sara's silhouette gave a gentle nod, and they kissed once again, moving down towards the bed.

Clothes were shed and discarded to the floor, kisses and caresses were shared with the most gentle care. They made love slow and tenderly, losing track of time and space around them, losing themselves in each other until spent, they lay in each others arms in the dark beneath the blankets, a tangle of arms and legs.

There was a silence for the longest time in the room afterwards, Gil lay with her against his chest, stroking her hair and lost in his own thoughts until she began to speak. When she did, it came out easily, like it had been rehearsed for hours and hours until the words came like fluid from her lips.

"I was six when it started…"

Gil stared off into space, listening, determined he wouldn't speak a word until she'd finished what she had to say.

"Six going on seven. Just a little girl…I didn't even understand what it was he was doing…"

The room fell into an eerie silence save the ticking of an old clock on the bedside cabinet.

"It wasn't all the time…sometimes months went by…and then there he'd be…regular as clockwork, always one thirty am, right on the dot…" Sara said distantly, "I can remember everything he did as clear as crystal. I remember the things he'd say, the things he made me do for him. He made it sound so innocent…like it was a game. 'Touch daddy'. 'Good girl, Sara. You're such a good girl'. I remember how it sounded, this…this moan…every time I think of it now it makes me shudder…makes me feel cold inside…"

Gil felt the emotion build in his throat and he had to swallow hard to force it back down again.

Sara fell silent for a moment, Gil still said nothing, knowing she was still searching for the next words to say. "It stopped…for a while…for almost a year…and then it started again…and then so did the beatings…"

Gil continued to stroke her hair, he could almost visualize it all in his head as she spoke, see it play out like a movie he'd rather not see.

"Everyone got hit, my mother…my brother…" she swallowed, "even me…" she confessed. "There were… trips to the hospital…frequently. My mother always said she was accident prone…and that me and my brother were fighting…hurting each other. In between all the beatings, sometimes there were happy times…times when nothing would go wrong. And just when I thought things were fine…it'd start all over again. Violent beatings…stuff no kid should ever have to see…or live through," she blinked tears, she took in a shaky breath, "I can still see every single bruise he ever gave my mom so clearly in my head. Every black eye, every bust lip…every bruise on her arms and legs. I still have nightmares, seeing her lying on the floor and him kicking her in the stomach…I still see him slamming her face against the wall and breaking her nose…"

Gil chewed on his lip, he didn't want to hear anymore, and yet at the same time, he had to hear it, had to know it all to understand.

"I thought it was the way every family lived…y'know? I just figured the other kids…the other moms…that they just hid it better…that there was nothing wrong with us. On and off, it continued, for years…when I was twelve, that's when things started to escalate…"

Gil had to swallow the emotion back again, his heart was thudding in his chest, aching for her in ways he hadn't thought possible. Now he knew why she hadn't wanted to talk about it. It was painful for her, he could hear it in her voice, feel it in the way she was trembling against him.

"By that time, I knew what was wrong with what my father was doing. We'd been told about it in school, educated on how we should tell our parents…" she explained, "but I wasn't about to tell my mother what he'd done to me…I knew she'd be beaten if she should bring it up in front of him…he was like that…he'd get this…this dangerous look in his eyes, like a completely different person was behind them…all it took was for something to piss him off…and there was a lot that did…" she explained. "This…one night I remember he came to my room. Hottest day of the summer. His hands were…all over me, he was rough, like he didn't care. That was the first time he took it further than touching and getting off. That was the first time he raped me."

Gil took her hand within his and kissed her fingers tenderly, he waited for her to continue.

"I was crying…it hurt…more than anything I think I'd ever felt…it was my crying that woke my mom up…she came running through, they screamed at each other until I couldn't even make out the words anymore…I remember being curled up in the corner of the room in tear, hurting, curled up wishing the pain would go away, wishing everything would go away, wishing my father would just…die…"

Gil sucked in a deep breath, he could picture it, Sara as a child, curled up in the corner in tears, watching her parents scream at each other incoherently.

"And then…mom had the knife…I don't remember seeing her come in with it…but it was there…in her hand…and she lunged at him, and I saw it slide through him…first through his shoulder…then through his chest…and she kept going, kept stabbing…I remember the blood splattering on my yellow walls…and on mom's pale blue nightdress. I felt it splatter on my face…" the emotion grew stronger in her voice, the trembles became stronger still.

Gil wanted to stop her from speaking, wanted to stop her from going on, could tell this was becoming far too painful for her.

"That…was the last time I saw my mother…" Sara said in a sigh, "the neighbours heard everything…called 911…everything then…was a flurry of police officers, and social workers…in my head I can still hear the sirens…can still see the flashing of the lights outside of the police cars and the paramedics. I can still hear my mothers sobs as she watched me and my brother being taken away…"

Gil kissed her fingers again, he wanted to tell her how sorry he was but sorry just didn't make it better, didn't make anything better.

"Every time…I'm on a domestic abuse case…or a child abuse or molestation case…it all comes back…its like you said…trying to forget won't fix it…or make prevent it from coming back and haunting me…" she twined her fingers with his absently, and let out a soft sob, as finally the emotion she'd been trying to contain broke free.

Gil lay looking up at the ceiling, he could feel his eyes watering over, something he hadn't felt for a very long time was the intense pain that came to his head from trying to hold back tears. One tear escaped, sliding down his left temple. And there it was. He was crying. He'd never cried for any woman, but here he was with Sara Sidle in his arms, and he was crying for her, for a childhood that had been stolen from her.

Sara never saw the tears in his eyes, never saw that tear escape. Gil wasn't sure what he might have felt if she had. Sara never raised her head to look at him, she cried upon his chest until the sobs faded and exhaustion dragged her into a dreamless sleep.

Gil didn't sleep that night. He wondered somberly, after what he'd heard, if he'd ever sleep again.

* * *

OOC again, yeah, I know. This was a hard chapter to write and yet it flowed out easy. Ah, I don't know.

Yeah, I know it isn't precisely in line with what happened in "Nesting Dolls". (We all add our little parts to fanfic, this is mine).

Thanks to the people who reviewed. I found 16 reviews in my inbox when I got online tonight. What a wonderful surprise. A few of them were even more than 2 lines long (I love those the best :) ) As per, I'll mention the names of the lovely reviewers in 64 :)

djkittycat: coffee CAN actually start and irritate migraines, it happens with me every so often, and my mothers best friend can't even drink coffee because it starts migraines (in fact, even eating cheese gives her migraines, lol). Sometimes coffee can help, but it depends on the person I guess.

Ash


	64. Chapter 64: Sharing

**Chapter 64**

**Sharing**

* * *

****

The sun rose and the light filtered through the bedroom but Gil had still not slept a wink. Sara slept deeply, emotion having completely drained her of any energy she might have had. Gil left her in the bed alone, he went to wander around the house, trying to find things to do to keep himself from feeling idle and useless.

Now knowing Sara's secret did not help ease his mind, in fact, it only heightened the emotional stress he'd been feeling regarding what she'd been hiding from him. Now knowing, he could not rest easy.

He'd promised her he would try to help her, but now that he knew what he knew, he didn't have a clue how to do so. He'd worked with women who'd gone through similar situations to Sara's. He'd talked with them, sympathized, but at a professional level. This was different…it was personal. He didn't know how to deal with this on a personal level.

He checked his answering machine, noting the small red light blinking indicating there was a message. He hit the play button.

"_Grissom…Cath here. I…uh…heard about Sara…Warrick told me. Is everything okay? Is Sara alright? Warrick said the guy had his hands around her throat...call me, okay? Let me know what's going on…"_

Gil decided to ignore the message for now. He'd speak to Catherine at work tonight.

_Should I even go to work tonight? Is it wise to let Sara be alone right now after that I made her tell me last night?_

Gil sat at the table in the living room for the remainder of the morning, surfing through various websites, online support groups for women who'd lived through physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. He couldn't find anything there that would help him deal with Sara's problem…couldn't find any magic solution that was going to make everything go away.

He was disturbed from his online browsing when he heard Sara padding bare foot across the tiled floor. He closed exited the browser windows, and then closed laptop. He turned to see her approaching. She was wearing the button-down shirt he'd been wearing during last nights shift, it hung past her hips, stopping just above her tan thighs. The sleeves were slightly too long for her, most of her hands disappearing beneath them.

"Morning."

"You weren't there when I woke up," Sara said softly, she took a seat nearby him, let her elbow rest on the table, and propped her cheek up in it, she looked at him as if waiting for him to say something.

"I couldn't sleep," he confessed, he pushed the laptop away from him. "Do you want something to eat?" he asked.

"I thought you'd want to talk," Sara responded softly, she looked at him, "about earlier…about what happened at work…"

"Now you want to talk?" he asked in surprise.

Sara shrugged, "it's not like there's anything to hide anymore, is there?"

"I guess not," Gil chewed the inside of his cheek, he tried to think of something to say, but fell silent.

"You have to follow procedure, don't you?"

"Yes," Gil sighed, "I have to write a report on your behavior during the interrogation…I'm sorry."

Sara nodded, "I know."

"It'll go on your record…but…you won't be fired," he assured.

Sara looked away from him, she stared around the room absently.

"Because of what happened…because you were provoking the suspect…I need to be…uhm…strict, you know that," he said.

"I know."

"I'm going to suspend you for a week…"

"Oh…" Sara said, she looked crestfallen.

"Gives you enough time to get yourself together…gives me enough time to do any damage control at work…" he took off his glasses and scratched the bridge of his nose. "I know it seems harsh but—"

"No, it's fine," Sara assured, "we both agreed…getting into the relationship wouldn't change anything at work. You're still my boss…you still…have to deal with me losing it in front of a suspect as you would with any other employee."

"If it's any consolation, I've lost my cool several times and been reprimanded," he leaned back in his chair, "even been jailed for contempt of court, so…don't feel too bad."

Sara smirked just a little, "you always know just want to say to make me feel better."

Gil stood up, "Sara…I have to go to work tonight."

"I know," Sara nodded.

"But I'm kind of…"

"Afraid to leave me on my own…think I'm going to do something stupid, like get drunk or…worse?" Sara raised an eyebrow.

"I trust you won't, I just…I wish I didn't have to abandon you."

"Gil, it's fine, y'know, life goes on. Shit happens, we deal with it, we move on. I'd like to start moving on."

"Will you do me a favour?" Gil asked, he moved towards the kitchen.

"Hmm?" Sara asked, she gave a slight yawn.

"Stay here…"

"Huh?" Sara stood up slowly.

"Stay here…for the week…"

"So you can keep an eye on me?" she asked, a little hostile.

Gil wished it hadn't seemed so blatantly obvious why he'd wanted her to spend the week in his house. "Actually, uh…" he tried to come up with some other excuse, any other excuse, "Y'know, maybe I just want you here when I get home…" he shrugged. "I've never had anyone to come home to before…"

"Stop bullshitting, Gil, you suck at it. You always look so damn helpless when you try to find an excuse and come up with something as lame as that."

Gil sighed, she was probably right, he probably did have that helpless look about him. If only he had a mirror on hand to see.

"You must be pretty worried about me if you want me in your house…while you're not here," Sara tried to smile, but he could see she wasn't happy about the idea of this. "I know you're not comfortable having me here even when you're here with me…you must really trust me. I mean…for all you know I could wait until the minute you walk out that door and start raking through all your stuff, trying to find out more about you and more about who you are."

"Of course I trust you," Gil responded, he stared across the room at her, "and for your information. You could go raking around in my house to your hearts content, you're probably not going to find anything other than a stash of chocolate covered grasshoppers and a tattered old address book – which is full of work numbers."

Sara raised an eyebrow, "oh come on…no photos…no high school yearbooks…no hidden Britney Spears CDs…no pornography under the bed?"

"The only thing you'll find under my bed is the John Grisham book I use to keep the uneven post balanced."

Sara pursed her lips together, "right. So you're saying – as a guy – you don't have ANY porn whatsoever in this house," she gestured around her.

"None," Gil teased. He was lying through his back teeth. He'd hidden anything incriminating the first night she'd stayed in his bedroom. Even with her investigative skills, he doubted she'd find what she was looking for. "You know, if you want to go looking for hidden porn, you should go to work and take a look around the DNA lab. Greg always had porn stashed in there somewhere. Probably still does. I lost count of how many times I went to get a folder off a shelf and opened it to find Playboy magazines hidden way at the back."

"I know about those," Sara said, "he also has a pinup of a spread eagled naked woman inside his locker…I caught sight of it once…he slammed the locker door closed, made an excuse and left as quickly as he could," she grinned.

Gil was glad she could joke after having been so emotionally drained from the night before.

"I…shared something with you last night, Gil…something…really…really personal…" she admitted.

"I know…" he nodded, "and…don't worry, it's just between us."

"When are you going to start sharing with me?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but he could hear just enough emotion in her voice to know she was still upset.

"There's nothing to share," Gil shrugged, "what you see is what you get."

"An enigmatic man who's cryptic about everything," Sara retorted.

"Okay…y'know what…" Gil put his hands up, "I'll share…you get to ask one question, and I'll answer it."

"One question?" Sara gaped, "how am I meant to figure you out in one question."

"You're not," he grinned, he opened his fridge and peered inside.

"Is there a limit to what I can and can't ask?" she approached, arms folded comfortably over her stomach.

"Yes," Gil took out a carton of milk and placed it on the counter, "you can ask anything as long as it's not about my family, how much I earn, how much I have saved in the bank, my previous relationships – or lack there of."

"Is that all?"

"I'm just getting started…" Gil assured, "questions about my sex life – which includes any weird questions about sex whatsoever - health problems, fantasies…"

"We could be here all day," Sara pretended to look at a watch she wasn't wearing. "so…basically…I'm not allowed to ask anything."

He shrugged, "I'm sure you'll find something to ask," he gave her his most innocent expression and searched through a cupboard to find cereal.

"Damn it," Sara muttered, "no, I can't. You've left me with nothing."

Gil grinned, "cereal?"

"Okay, wait, I have one…" Sara put her hands up in realization, "have you ever deliberately broken the law – before you were a CSI."

He paused, "Uh….yes."

"How?" Sara asked.

"I said I'd answer, I didn't say I'd give an explanation," he teased. "Anyway, that's two questions. Not one."

"Damn you," Sara muttered, "how can you be so secretive? Look at you standing there with your milk and your cornflakes, a complete mystery to the universe, so smug."

Gil paused for a moment, "okay, wait here…" he instructed, and he disappeared into his bedroom. Sara poured herself a bowl of cornflakes while she waited several moments for Gil to return. Gil had to go through a locked box of things in his room to finally find what he'd been looking for.

He finally returned to her, and he placed something down on the counter, "there."

Sara swallowed her mouthful of chewed cornflakes, and picked the item up. It was a very old black and white photograph of three rows of high school kids. She stared at it, trying to make out what she was meant to be seeing.

"I'm here," Gil pointed to a particular face in the photo.

"Oh…my god, look at you…" Sara gaped, she gazed at the picture of Gil, young, thin, but with the same boyish smile he had seemed to maintain throughout his life. "You were actually good looking. Better than good looking…damn…"

"I kinda thought I still was…?" he raised an eyebrow, but he was joking. He had no such optimism that he was still slightly good looking thirty three years later.

"You definitely got better with age," Sara confessed, she had an impressed look on her face, "Am I the only one to see this?"

"Yes," he answered. "Even Cath hasn't seen that. You should feel privileged. Now I've shared, you can drop this 'sharing' discussion."

"I'm gonna scan this and put it on the bulletin board at work," she laughed.

"You dare."

* * *

Yet another blah chapter, but a bit more lighthearted than the other one I guess (as much as I could make it).

Thanks to the following lovely reviewers:

lunar47, kristy87, jbr12476, saskia2, csibugman, Wishing on the Moon, Aidrianna, NimrodDuckie, Mariposa, csi-ds9, Lgraziano, CSI-phreak, wandaa, gsr fan, alias101, djkitty, Phoenix38133, Mystical Panther, CSIfreak92, CSICubsFan, jtbwriter.

Especially to lunar47 and Wishing on the Moon for their reviews which were


	65. Chapter 65: Changed

**Chapter 65**

**Changed**

* * *

****

The moment Gil had entered CSI Catherine had found him, her blue eyes were suspicious, her mouth pulled tight until she spoke.

"You didn't call me."

"Was I supposed to call you?" Gil feigned complete innocence.

"I left you a message on your answering machine," Catherine folded her arms. "I know you got it, even you couldn't be so completely absent minded as to not check your messages."

"Okay, okay, so I got the message…but I forgot to call. I was preoccupied. It happens, doesn't it?"

"With you it happens way too often," Catherine confessed, she trailed him all the way to his office.

Gil unlocked his office door and switched on the lights, stepped inside with Catherine still at his back. He let her in then shut the door. "What happened is Sara lost her temper. It happens."

"Stop saying 'it happens' like there's no explanation, okay? I don't buy that," Catherine folded her arms stubbornly. "With you, there's an explanation for everything. You just never choose to give them."

"Why do you have to be so damn meddlesome? Every time something happens in my life, you have to be the first one to find out what it is," Gil pointed out.

"Because you're my friend. Gil, as much as I'm happy you're starting this whole new life with Sara, I'm also worried about you."

"Worried about me?" he mused, he walked away from her to take off his jacket and throw it over the back of his chair.

"Look at you, when was the last time you actually slept, Grissom?" she demanded, "You look like crap…you come to work and you stress out not only because of the workload, but because of Sara. Your work is suffering, you're suffering to the point you're getting migraines…"

"One migraine. I had ONE migraine. And my work is not suffering."

"Yeah, right. You left yesterday in the middle of a shift leaving a crap load of paperwork that was due for the end of the day, which I ended up having to do to cover for your ass! Your phone was ringing off the hook yesterday and you weren't there to answer it. The powers that be know EVERYTHING that happens in this place, and if they find out about your relationship with Sara and how you've been putting it first, heads will ROLL, Grissom."

Gil winced at this. Okay, maybe my work is suffering just a tad, he thought. "Catherine, I don't want to hear all this right now…I have so much to do, so little time to do it in."

Catherine sighed, "You're going to end up getting yourself fired."

"Then I'll be fired," he turned and looked at her, "and I'll find something else."

"What about us!" Catherine demanded, "You're the one who runs this team, we NEED you here."

"As you've pointed out time and time again, Catherine. You could probably do my job," he sighed.

"You love your job. It'd kill you if you were fired."

"I love my job, yes," Gil said, "and I also love Sara. So much that if I have to risk my job for her…just to be there for her when she gets assaulted by a suspect, then so be it. I'm one of fifteen forensic entomologists in the country, I get job offers all the time. If I get fired, I can easily find something else."

"You get fired, and it'll bruise your reputation," Catherine leaned against the wall.

"My reputation has been long since bruised by my – what you deemed – political tone-deafness anyway," he reminded. "And despite that, I'm still receiving job offers constantly, trust me…there is a light at the end of the tunnel even if it the roof might be threatening to cave in."

Catherine sighed.

"I appreciate the concern, I really do. But you don't need to worry about me."

"You know…you're like…a whole different person since you started this relationship with Sara, it's like we don't even know you anymore," Catherine finally admitted.

"So what if I'm a whole different person?" he felt his temper flare, "am I the only person in this room who made changes in their life?" he demanded, "you were a stripper Cath. Not only a stripper but a coked up stripper. You changed your whole life," he uttered under his breath. "You prioritized. So have I."

Catherine looked shaken at his hostility, at the bite in his tone. "Right…" she trailed off, "fine," she gave a shrug that feigned nonchalance, but he could see his words had cut deeper than they had meant to. She had left his office without uttering another word, leaving him feel very much like he'd just destroyed his friendship with her.

_Great…why did I let that get to me? Why didn't I just bite my tongue? _The answer came to him. _Because you're Gil Grissom._

Handing the assignments out after his outburst with Catherine left things very awkward. Catherine didn't utter a word to him, just accepted the assignment without asking questions or demanding why he'd put her on an arson case instead of the murder case he knew she'd have wanted to work on.

Gil decided to let the others fly solo, but he assigned himself one of the tougher cases and decided to take Greg for field experience. Greg – as always – was enthusiastic to get outside of the lab.

In the car, things were quiet. Greg fiddled with the radio while Gil drove, and Gil – despite himself – found himself not minding a bit. He had more important things to worry about, like what Sara might be doing at that very minute in his house. What rooms she might be sliding into and what she might be searching for.

Just when he thought he'd entered the safe zone of work and that the only thing that might be discussed was the case…Greg spoke of something other than. "What's with Cath today…?"

"What'd you mean?"

"She ignored you when you were handing out assignments," Greg replied.

"Oh. I don't know…who knows with Catherine. I've probably said something politically incorrect," he lied.

"Catherine is pretty easy going…so…must be big…" Greg suggested.

"Perhaps it's PMS."

"Nah. Not for another two weeks," Greg responded.

Gil shuddered, the thought that Greg noticed the subtle differences in Catherine around 'that time of the month' was almost as scary as the fact that he himself noticed the same things from time to time.

"How's Sara?"

Gil heard the agitation in Greg's voice as he spoke Sara's name. It was an agitation that hadn't been there up until this point. Whether it was just out of concern for Sara, or if it was out of frustration that he could do nothing to help, Gil wasn't sure.

"Fine," Gil answered, "she's…fine."  
"Fine?" Greg asked, disbelief covered his face like a mask, hiding the normal good natured expressions. "She nearly got strangled to death so I heard. That isn't fine…" he retorted. "That's far from fine. That's so beyond not fine."

"I don't know how else to say it, Greg," Gil responded, "she's fine. She has a little bruising around her neck, nothing serious, her voice isn't affected, and she was rather…chipper this morning."

"Chipper?" Greg asked, "this is Sara we're talking about, right?"

Gil ignored the comment, he concentrated on the road ahead.

"Is she fired?"

"No. Definitely not fired," Gil answered.

"Because she's your girlfriend?" Greg asked carefully, the expression on his face said he wished he hadn't said it at all.

Gil now found himself wishing he'd brought Nick or Warrick along instead of Greg. "Because she's a good CSI, and because she wasn't the only guilty party in what happened yesterday. This is nothing to do with her and me being in a relationship Greg. We have to maintain a professional attitude if we want to work together AND have a relationship."

Greg rolled down the window and let his arm rest where the window met the door, "so…if she's not fired…she's…?"

"Suspended. For a week," Gil answered. "She'll be back. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry?" Greg sighed, "she's Sara. Amazing Sara. If I were you, I'd be worried. REALLY worried."

"What makes you think I'm not?"

"Because you always have that look of detachment. Like feeling anything would be a useless way to react."

"Is that what you think?" Gil asked.

Greg took a moment to think about this, he was staring at Gil, trying to work out what he felt about this, "Not always…but right now…yeah."

"Greg, trust me. I'm worried."

"If you say so," Greg responded.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Gil asked, hostile now.

"I never called you anything," Greg said with a nervous laugh, "I just figured if you were really worried about Sara, you'd like…be with her, as opposed to not being with her and being at work…"

"Oh?" Gil asked, he couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice.

"I mean…if I were you…and Sara was the one I loved…and she nearly got strangled to death by a psycho wife beater…I'd have at least taken the day off work…" Greg confessed.

"And then what?" Gil asked, he wondered what made Greg such an expert on romance. The guy had a string of girlfriends from one month to the next, as far as Gil knew, Greg hadn't had a proper steady relationship in quite some time.

Greg was silent for a moment, and Gil thought the conversation might have been dropped entirely. But then, Greg spoke up, "Spend the day talking with her if she wanted to talk about, if she didn't, spend the day thinking of ways to distract her from it. Pamper her and treat her like a queen. I'd buy her a rose for each and every single day I'd loved her," Greg's eyes twinkled, he smiled a little distantly, then he shrugged, "I'd just be there. Even if she said she didn't need me, I'd be there."

Gil sighed deeply to himself. It bothered him that Greg – this young man with only half the experience of life he himself had – seemed to have relationships figured out while he still found himself struggling with the simpler aspects. It seemed unfair and unjust. Shouldn't it have been the other way around?

_God, he's right,_ Gil thought miserably_. He's goddamn right. I shouldn't have left Sara alone – I should be spending the day with her trying to help her feel better about this…after what she admitted to me last night, she can't just be 'fine' instantly like she was this morning. She cried last night, damn it. Sara doesn't cry unless there's something severely wrong…something badly hurting her. She's not the kind of woman who cries at every tiny emotional incident that comes up._

Trying to focus on anything almost seemed impossible.

She went through stuff I've dealt with every week at work…I've seen how crazy it drives the victims who've lived through it…how could I believe for one second that she was fine…that talking about it would magically fix everything. I should have taken the week off to be with her…

Greg nudged Gil, "Uh, Grissom…you just drove past our crime scene."

Grissom swore under his breath. _Okay, Gil Concentrate. Less than 8 hours. You can get through this. You can sign yourself off for tomorrow, and then you'll be with Sara…you CAN do this._

* * *

_Thanks to everyone who keeps reviewing, means alot to me and it makes my day still! _

_I'm sorry this is another pretty blah chapter, lol. I'll try better for 66 ;)_


	66. Chapter 66: The Bribe

**Chapter 66**

**The Bribe**

* * *

****

Gil was relieved when the shift ended. The day had been hard. He'd spent most of it trying to avoid speaking with Catherine, and the brief times they had spoken it had been work related and Catherine had seemed strained. He'd only wanted to inform her he was taking the next shift off, and that she would be in charge. She hadn't appeared to be happy about it.

Guilt ate at him about this. He was fully aware that both he and Catherine were acting like immature children, pretending not to see each other in the hall when they passed, and not saying goodbye to each other when the shift ended.

He understood full well that if he wanted the issue resolved, he would have to be the one to apologise. He had no problem with admitting he was wrong – and he knew he'd been more than wrong in being very sharp-tongued with her before the shift had started. On the other hand, he understood Catherine would have a problem admitting she was becoming a little too involved in his personal life – she didn't see her interest as meddlesome, she saw it as concern.

When he arrived home, the sun had already risen, and the living room in his house was flooded with the bright light. Music was even playing, he recognized the song right off the bat because it was from one of his Pink Floyd CDs. He glanced around, seeing no sign of Sara.

"Sara?" he asked, he took his jacket off and hung it up, he sauntered through the house until he found Sara in the utility room, standing by the dryer.

Sara turned to him, "Oh, hi…" she forced a smile, "I, uh…did your laundry…" she gestured to the dryer.

"You were bored?" Gil asked, blinking at this. There was something startling, and yet, warming about this. He'd never had anyone to come home to before – not since having lived at home with his mother. Having Sara there – and having her do his laundry – was somewhat overwhelming.

Sara shrugged, "I was bored…kind of. Admit it, there isn't much to do here except watch Discovery, or listen to music."

Gil gestured to the music which was still only slightly audible from the utility room, "since when do you like Pink Floyd?"

"I don't, but I figured I might as well listen to something. When was the last time you actually bought music that wasn't from an era past the seventies?"

"No clue," Gil smirked a little at this, he stood with his shoulder against the threshold, watching her, "So…how's your day been? What'd you get up to?"

"I watched a documentary on Monkeys, I made myself a grilled cheese sandwich, and I went raking for porn all over the house and only found a picture of cartoon bugs doing it in the doggy-style position," Sara mused.

Gil put his hand in front of his face, he'd forgotten all about that. It had been in a small closet where he kept his vacuum cleaner. It had been taped to the wall. "I forgot about that one."

"Did you draw that?" Sara raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, no. Catherine drew it six years ago. She said it was as close to a sex life I'd ever have…watching bug's mate…" he explained. "I told her it was dirty, so…she put it in the closet with the vacuum cleaner."

"Sounds like Cath," Sara smirked, "anyway, after that, I got bored, I went home for a while…picked up a few things that I'll need if I'm going to stay over," she explained, "I stopped by work to get something out of my locker…but you weren't there," she added.

"I actually got out on the field today," he admitted. "Greg misses you, by the way."

Sara smiled a little at this, "how was your day?"

"Nightmarish. I had a falling out with Catherine."

"Over what?"

"Over the amount of work I left on my desk after I left the other night," he sighed, "I'll make it up to her – later. It's just a case of waiting until she calms down enough that she'll accept my apology."

Sara stepped over, "so…"

"I'm taking tonight off," Gil said, "so I can spend some time with you. We hardly ever have time alone unless it's after work, and that doesn't give us much time at all…"

Sara smiled and leaned forward to kiss him.

He accepted her into his arms gratefully, kissing her back, glad to be home to her. He'd spend the whole shift worrying about her, what she might be doing – or if she'd be sitting alone maybe crying in her solitude. Greg's words had haunted him all night. Reminded him he should have been there and that he wasn't. He was glad to see Sara so completely fine.

_She's stronger than you think she is_, Gil, he reminded himself. _You need to trust her more. You need to have more faith in her…_

Gil buried his hand in her hair, pulling her closer to him, deepening the kiss. That was then he noticed it. There was the taste of alcohol on her lips, in her mouth, he hadn't noticed it before. He'd been caught up in the fact her mouth tasted like spearmint gum and that was almost delicious to his senses. Now he realised the gum had only been to cover up the smell of alcohol on her breath.

She was trying to hide it from him. She should have known better.

He moved back from her pushing her away slightly, "You've been drinking."

Sara looked at him, a puzzled expression on her face, "uh…no…"

"Sara, I can taste it…what is that, vodka?"

Sara's eyes fell to the floor, she didn't say anything.

"Is it?" he asked, trying to be a little more persistent that she answer.

"So I had a couple of shots…" Sara shrugged.

"How much is a couple of shots, Sara?" Gil asked. "Two…three?"

He'd been away from her for eight and a half hours. That was plenty of time for a woman to get drunk, sober up, and try and hide any evidence of it.

_Damn it…I should have noticed…I should have known something was up…I should have been able to look at her and know she'd been drinking…how could I be so blind! _

Gil left the utility room, passed through the living room, went right outside and to the garbage can, near the fencing that separated his property from the Ashcrofts' property. Years of training and finding evidence had taught him the most likely places people try to hide evidence. And something told him, this was the most likely place she would have stashed the evidence. She would have never thrown an empty bottle into the garbage in his kitchen, way too obvious.

_Does she think I'm stupid_?_ That she could just hide the evidence and get away with it so easily?_ He thought as he pulled the lid off of the garbage can, he reached in, brushing some of the other garbage aside to see the empty bottle there. A small bottle of vodka, drained. It wasn't even the bottle from his apartment, this was something she'd brought to his house herself.

He stood there, staring at the bottle in his hand, he felt aghast, and betrayed, and slightly disturbed that she would have been so careless as to not think of a better place to hide the evidence. _She must have done this when she was drunk…sobered up she'd have never even put this in my garbage can…she'd have probably put it in the neighbours garbage._

"Are you mad?" he felt her touch his back, she was standing behind him, the sun playing down on her brown hair causing a golden halo to appear around her head. She looked remorseful, she wasn't meeting his eyes.

"Disappointed," Gil sighed, he dropped the bottle back into the garbage and he heard it shatter, "Sara…what…what was going through your mind…?"

"I don't know, okay…I just…I couldn't deal."

"I trusted you…you told me I could trust you…" he swallowed back the emotion that was stirring up in his throat.

Sara drew her breath deeply, "I know. I let you down."

"You did more than let me down…this…hurts…" he confessed.

"Why should it hurt you?" she asked, "okay, so I lied. It's not like I went and cheated on you."

"You did. With a bottle," he shut the garbage can with a loud clatter, "Sara, I…I just don't know what to do about this…"

"Then don't do anything."

"What, and let you destroy your liver or die of alcohol poisoning?" he frowned, "I can't do that."

"Then what CAN you do?" Sara asked impudently, "come on, Gil, let's hear your brilliant solution for this. You always have a solution for everything. The science behind everything…the science you can fall back on." Sara looked up to the sky, gesturing wildly, "Did you just think that talking about it was going to make it all go away? That once I told you what happened to me as a kid that everything would just miraculously fall into place and we'd live happily ever after."

"I have no solution," Gil responded, defeated. "There's nothing I can fall back on here…" he stared at her, trying to make her eyes meet his. "There…are no happily ever afters…" he added.

"So what now?" she asked, "now that you see there's no happily ever after here, do you just want to cut and run?"

Gil took her by the shoulders, "I don't need happily ever afters in my life. I never have," he admitted. "What I do need, is for you to meet me half way here and at least admit you have a drinking problem…admitting it is the first step, Sara. That's all I want from you, just say it."

"What if I do admit it, what then? Start talking about counseling? Don't you think I've done all that crap? Don't you think I've wasted hours in therapy, and support groups and trying to tell myself that I don't need to drink to forget what happened?" her eyes were watery, but he could see she was making a rather valiant attempt at not letting the tears free themselves.

Gil slid his hands down her arm until he caught her own hands within his. "Sara…I love you…"

Sara dropped her gaze to the ground, she pursed her lips together tightly.

"Don't you believe me when I say I'm scared for you?"

Sara gave a shrug that was almost nonchalant, but he could see the emotion on her face.

"Y'know…this is my fault," he sighed, "I shouldn't have left you alone…if I'd been here…you'd have never gotten drunk…it's whenever I'm not with you that you do this…"

"It's not your fault…" Sara raised her watery eyes to him finally. "It's mines…"

Gil looked at her. "Are you admitting you have a problem?"

Sara looked away again.

"Are you?" he asked softly again, he squeezed her hands. She gave a slight nod in response. That was all he needed. "Sara…every time you open the cap of a bottle you make a choice…" he sighed, "I can't stop you…I can't be there with you ALL the time. I can't spend the rest of my life wondering if every time I turn my head, you're draining a bottle…I can't spend my life like that…"

Sara's eyes darted to his, "excuse me?"

"Hmm?"  
"The 'rest of your life'."

Gil raised an eyebrow, "hmm?" he asked again.

"Just…you went all weird about making plans for the future…now you're saying 'the rest of your life' like you've made up your mind about the future."

"I didn't think I had," Gil confessed, "but that's not the issue here…the issue is that you're the one who has to deal with this drinking problem, I can't do it for you. If I could, I would, but I can't. You have to make the change, you have to be the one to make the choice."

Sara looked at him, she was searching his face, as if she hoped that maybe the answer to all her problems maybe lay behind those blue eyes of his.

Gil paused for a moment to think about what to say next, then spoke, "you…want to know me, right?" he asked softly.

Sara gave a nod.

"How much do you want to know me?" he asked, "really know me?"

Sara stood silent for moments, watching him. Her hair stirred in the wind, her lips twitched, and it made Gil want to kiss her so badly and pretend that none of this had ever happened – which he knew in the end wasn't going to be the best solution for the problem. "I…want to know why you're the way you are, why you're so hard to get close to…even now."

"What else?" he asked carefully.

"Why you've never been in love, why you've never let anyone into your life…why you're so secretive…why you're so aloof at work…" Sara continued.

"Could I trust you with everything you want to know?" he looked at her.

Sara nodded, "of course you could…"

"But I trusted you…leaving you alone in my home…then you drank a bottle of vodka and tried to hide the evidence. Tried to keep things from me. Lied to me."

Sara looked at him, her expression pained.

"If I can't trust you not to hurt yourself, how can I trust you won't hurt me?" he asked.

She was silent again, looking away from him.

"Wanna know why I fought with Catherine…?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Sara shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant again and doing a lousy job at it in the process.

"Because I've changed. Because I put you before work. Because I told her from now on, you would always come before work."

Sara raised her eyes to him again, she looked slightly startled.

"I meant it when I told you work came second and you first," Gil sighed, "I meant it when I said to Catherine. I ruined my friendship with Catherine because of you…Jesus, don't you get it, you're part of my life now…a permanent fixture…more important than anything, even my friend," he explained, "I'm part of your world now…you're part of mines. God, you're more than part of it, you're all of it, you're my whole world."

Sara blinked, and blinked back tears, "you're…my whole world too…you always have been…"

"Sara…you have to make a decision…you have to admit you have a problem…you have to decide you want to deal with it, and you have to show me you can trust me and that I can trust you…" he explained, "and only then, when I know I can never doubt you…can I bare my soul to you."

"That's a lot to ask for," Sara admitted.

"I don't ask for much often," he said, "but when I do, I ask for a lot…so what's your answer?"

Sara looked at him. "I don't want to disappoint you again."

"So you'll seek help?" he asked.

Sara gave a nod.

He pulled her into his arms, he felt like sobbing in relief. He kissed her neck and murmured he loved her. But for all that he loved her, he hated himself, hated everything that he was that he could use himself as the catalyst to try and make her deal with her own problems. It hadn't felt like there was any other choice, it was nothing more than the honey to sweeten the pot. The bribe. All he wanted was for her to do it for herself.

* * *

Okay so someone will probably send the angst police and the OOC cops on my arse right about now...agh, I know, I'm sorry. I apologise for another blah chapter. I know some people won't like this chapter - I don't really even like it and I wrote it...

It's getting hard to keep up with the reviews right now, I've had 437 reviews since starting this story. That's huge to me. I may have to stop mentioning you all in my chapter ends, because it's getting harder to note down who reviewed since the last time updated...

Thanks to: kristy87, sarahmakinson, jroots, elisacollette, Aidrianna, Hope and PrincessPink for reviewing since the last 2 updates...


	67. Chapter 67: Sorrys

**Chapter 67**

****

**Sorrys**

* * *

Gil hadn't slept a wink, even long after having settled in his bed beside Sara, who was slumbering peacefully in those ridiculous penguin pajamas of hers. Sleep refused to come to him, and he cursed that he could feel so physically and emotionally tired and yet still feel so fully awake that his mind was still a whirring chaos of thought, confusion and hurt from the past few days.

Even curling around Sara's back, and feel the comfort of having her there with him, against him, being able to feel her heart against his chest did nothing to soothe or lull him into sleep. Sara would just shift, roll halfway on her side, and absently swat him away in her sleep, not comfortable with him lying against her in this fashion at all.

Accepting defeat, he kissed her forehead tenderly, and climbed out of bed, he pulled on some jogging pants - he might have been comfortable enough to sleep naked aside Sara but he was still not comfortable enough to roam around his own house in the same peculiar fashion.

He wandered aimlessly throughout his house, picking up various books he hadn't read in years and flicking through them half heartedly, not being able to focus properly on the words. Once upon a time, long before Sara had come into his life, he'd have lost himself in such books - would be so completely consumed by those words that time would fly by and he'd find himself late for work.

_But I don't have work today_, he reminded himself. _I have to be here for Sara. I have to make sure she's okay. We have to spend the day together and try to figure out what we can do about her problem._

He paced across the living room, every now and then taking a moment to glance out of the window. The early afternoon had bathed the street, kids were out playing on their bikes and skateboards. People were walking their dogs. Young married couples walked by holding hands.

It was the first time he'd truly found himself envying everyone on that street. Everyone who had a full life that wasn't completely consumed by work. Everyone who had gone to the next step. Everyone who'd been married, had children. He supposed if he'd been as idealistic as those couples who walked by, he'd have been married by now, possibly have a kid off to college, maybe even a grandkid.

Life had never felt so empty as it had right at that moment as he stood there watching life pass him by. Here he was, a man of almost fifty standing at a window like some perverted spectator begrudging a normalcy that he was afraid he himself might never obtain.

_Don't be stupid, Gil. Your life is just as normal…just as fulfilling. You're not single anymore…you have Sara now. Before Sara there was no choice but to live and feel alone…now you're not limited. _

Gil wandered back to the bedroom to check on Sara. Sara slept ever soundly, her hair splayed out on the pillow like silk the colour of chocolate. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes closed lightly. Her lips parted ever so slightly. He pecked those lips softly, he had to, just to remind himself she was still there, still real, and that having her there wasn't some kind of dream he was about to wake up from.

Sleepily, she murmured his name, and rolled over facing away from him, exhausted. He had to smile at this, smile at the absurd pattern on her pajamas, smile because even though she'd just turned her back on him, she was still in his bed.

He left the bedroom again. In the kitchen he made himself a sandwich, which he only took two bites of before discarding. He checked his answering machine. Not one single message. He half expected to hear Catherine's voice on the phone, admitting how childish this was that they were still not talking. He wanted to hear it, even tried willing the phone to ring, but that didn't work.

_What would you say once she did call? You were harsh…she didn't deserve that…Catherine is an amazing person, with such spirit and vitality, and you bruised her with your cold words. How could I have cruelly called her a coked up stripper? That's just not like me. She's right, I have changed. I thought I was changing for the better, but when it comes to hurting my friends, obviously I was wrong. _

Gil reached out for the phone, but ended up not picking it up. _What would you say if you call her right now? Sorry just doesn't cut it, Gil. Sorry isn't good enough. _

He sat on the floor for some minutes in silence by the phone, trying to eloquently piece together some sentences that would get across how sorry he was. He knew so many rather poetic quotes regarding friendship, but Catherine wasn't likely to be interested any of them. The only approach Gil knew Catherine was likely to take was the direct approach.

Gil could imagine what he thought she would say. _Stop hiding behind your pretty words and phrases. Take the bull by the balls, swallow your pride and just say 'sorry'. And not just sorry, but admit you were wrong, admit you're an idiot, admit you were cruel, and that you could never be sorry enough._

Gil picked up the receiver and began to dial, but before he got to the last three digits, he hung up. No, that wasn't going to work. Catherine would still be too mad over this – and mad that once again he was taking time off to be with Sara rather than facing up to his responsibilities.

_SO what if I am? _He wondered. _Since when do I ever take personal time off for anything other than a cockroach race? Since when do I ever need personal time off at all? She said she was happy for me…if she was truly happy for me…then she'd be fine with this. _

He sighed to himself. _Lets face it, Gil. This isn't about her not being happy for you, it's about the increase in her workload. But hell, if she ever wants to be a supervisor some day she's going to have to get used to excessive workloads. This is experience for her, she needs to understand that. _

Gil thought once again about calling, making up some excuse about how much he trusts her to take over for him, and that he was priming her for taking over if he should intend to leave at any point. But even to himself these words sounded like the complete lies they were. He chided himself for thinking he could even lie to her. She was too perceptive to fall for it.

Okay, fine, so…I just pick up the phone and say 'Cath, don't hang up, I need to talk. I just want to say I'm sorry. I feel so terrible about what I said. I feel like crap. I've never thought such things about you…and I never will. You're so much better than that…'

Gil rolled his eyes at himself, even in his head it sounded more phony than the lies he'd thought of telling her. But it was all he had. Catherine liked the direct approach, he had to be direct. He had to just blurt out what he felt, without mincing words, without putting it into poetic and meaningful phrases

He took hold of the receiver and lifted it, about to hit the call button that would allow him to dial out. Before he had the chance the phone rang. It rang so loudly that his heart jumped in his chest, startling him. He dropped the phone and it landed on the tiles with a deafening clatter.

Reprimanding himself for being scared of a phone, he picked it up, and answered. "Hello…?". He expected to hear Catherine's sharp voice telling him that they had gone long enough being childish and that the fight was over. What he hadn't expected was for the phone call to be family related.

For the next few moments, his world seemed to crumble round him, the news so shocking that it send him spiraling into a black abyss of emotion. He'd thought he'd been emotionally disturbed by what Sara had told him only days ago. After he'd heard this from Sara, he'd been convinced that things could only get better. This morning he'd been proven wrong coming home to find Sara had been drinking.

Even then, he'd told himself that this had to have been as bad as things could get.

The phone call was from his uncle Herb. His mothers slightly younger brother, and his favourite uncle – although he'd not seen or heard from the man for many years now. Gil found himself actually glad to hear the voice of his uncle. He sat there for two seconds considering telling his uncle how great life was – of course leaving out the little snippets of sadness in between – and how he was in love finally.

"Gil, I have something to tell you…I just hope you're sitting down."

Gil heard the strain in his uncles good natured voice right away, and somehow, he knew even before his uncle had spoken what was wrong. If Gil had been Spider-man, his spider senses would have been tingling instead of his spine running cold and his heart threatening to come to a complete stop.

"What's wrong…?" Gil asked, although he didn't know why he asked. He already knew, somehow in his heart, in his very soul, he knew. He just didn't want to hear those words.

"Your mothers physical therapist arrived at the house just an hour ago..." Herb began, and there was emotion thick in his voice. "I'm really sorry, Gil…"

"Herb?" Gil asked, he could feel his heart beginning to break right there. If his heart was glass, he was almost convinced he could hear it shatter.

"Your mother passed away. I'm so sorry."

* * *

Ok, this was really difficult to write. Not in the way that I was blocked or didn't know what to write, but because my computer has broken down and I have to write this on Dadda's - his keyboard is like old type writer - you have to batter the keys to type anything and it takes alot longer. I've been at this chapter for two hours now. 

I'm not going to add in the names of the people who reviewed because I'm on dadda's computer and his runs slow when more than one browser window is open (which I usually have open so I can get all the names of the reviewers). Once I get the issue resolved, I'll try to get you all mentioned.

Sorry I can't throw out as many chapters today as I normally would. I might be limited for the next few days...

Ash


	68. Chapter 68: Calm

**Chapter 68**

**Calm**

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****

The words had pierced him, stabbed at his soul with an invisible knife. And for all that he felt inside, he remained surprisingly calm after he'd long since hung up the phone after advising his uncle Herb that he'd be there as soon as he could.

For all the urgency the situation presented, he sat for almost an hour on the living room floor, not moving, not letting out a sound, unable to feel anything other than lost. Shock gripped him and kept him there.

When finally, he'd managed to pull himself together enough to go to the bedroom, he could feel himself shaking, and he had to stand in the doorway for several moments to try and tell himself not to panic. He kept his breathing controlled and even, tried to maintain a rhythmic heartbeat. He tried not to think of the emotional stress already building up within him after having heard his mother had passed away.

When Gil felt able enough, he moved to the bed and sat down on the side by Sara, who was lying stretched out over the entire bed, flat on her stomach, half her face buried in the pillows. With a heavy hearted sigh, he watched her for several moments.

Sara seemed so peaceful that it seemed wrong to want to wake her for any reason – not even his own problems. But he couldn't dally anymore. He'd spent an hour sitting in silence not doing anything, when there was so much to be planned, so much to do, and so much still to feel.

He reached out, placed his hand on her back and shook her, "Sara…"

Sara stirred slightly, shifting her position and stretching, intent on continuing with the much needed rest.

"Sara…" Gil said again, a little more firmly, he tried not to let his emotion put a bite in his tone. He shook her again, harder this time.

Sara gave a groan of exhaustion, "what time is it?"

"Two o'clock," Gil answered softly.

"It's still early," Sara grumbled, pulling the covers over her shoulder and snuggling down beneath them, her eyes still closed.

"Sara…wake up, we need to talk…" Gil drew his breath.

Sara's eyes fluttered open, "what is it?" she asked wearily.

"Something has come up…" he sighed. It occurred to him right at that moment that he couldn't tell her why he had to go, it was too much for her to know. He knew she'd see him differently. He didn't want her sympathy, didn't want her worrying. He didn't want her concerned for him when she had her own problems to contend with.

Sara leaned up, her hair hung in messy waves around her face, "what?"

"I need to go away…for a while, I don't know how long for, week maybe...maybe less…" he chewed the inside of his cheek, staring away into space.

"Why...?" Sara asked, her voice full of immediate suspicion.

"Something came up…" he explained, "I…can't really go into it at the moment…" he added. "I can't be here for you right now…as much as I want to be…I can't…" he felt so much guilt begin to build within him. He'd told her he'd be there for her, and now…here he was, having to abandon her, having to tell her everything he'd promised would have to be forgone for now.

Sara sat up straight, "is this about a seminar?"

"No…it's not about a seminar," he sighed, "it's just…something important. I have to be there…it's something I can't get out of…"

"Are you…changing your mind about us? Is this your way of saying you don't want to be with me because I drink too much…that you don't want to—" Sara started to immediately jump to conclusions.

"No…God, no," he looked at her, tried to hide every ounce of emotion from her. He didn't want her to panic, he didn't want her to worry – not over him. She needed to worry about herself. "It's just…something I have to do…" he brushed her hair back from her face affectionately, "you can still stay here the week…and I'll call as much as I can."

"Oh…" Sara trailed off, "But…I…don't get it, didn't you say that we're supposed to be learning to trust each other…and…you're…not telling me something."

"Sara, believe me…it's better that you just…don't know…" he stood up, "I have to go call Catherine, tell her I'm going to be out of town…"

"Okay…" Sara trailed off, she still seemed confused. It was obvious by the look on her face she didn't understand this at all, and was caught in between feeling angry and hurt that after this mornings incident, he'd want to suddenly bail out.

Gil closed his bedroom door, he picked up the cordless phone, and stepped into the utility room, he shut the door quietly. He didn't want Sara to overhear even from two rooms away.

He dialed Catherine's home number, and waited impatiently, his heart was pounding in his chest now, and he was shaking again, this time a little more than before.

"Hello?" Catherine's impatient tone came, and he suddenly remembered she had caller I.D. on her phone. She already knew it was him.

"Cath…" Gil sighed, "I need a favour…"

"Hi to you too, Grissom," Catherine uttered.

"Cath…something's come up…" he swallowed back the emotion that was beginning to rise in him, he could hear it in his own voice, his tone was thick with it, he didn't sound like himself anymore.

Catherine paused, "why do you sound so…I don't know…strange…?" she asked.

"Cath, I have to go to California…I don't know how long for…possibly a week…I need someone to take over for me while I'm away…"

"Gil…" Catherine trailed off, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just…I got a phone call…family member passed away, have to go, uh, help arrange a funeral."

"Your mother?" Catherine asked softly.

Gil frowned, how did she always manage to know these things? He gave another sigh, "yeah, Cath. My mother…" he sucked in a breath, "physical therapist found her in the bed…said looked like she passed away peacefully."

"Oh God, Gil…I'm so sorry…"

"Don't be…I don't…I don't need sympathy…I just need someone to run graveyard for as long as I'm away…it doesn't even matter if the paperwork piles up to the ceiling and I end up with a backlog to come home to…I just need you to do this for me…"

Catherine faltered, "I…yeah…I can do that…"

"Thanks, Cath…" Gil stared out of the window, not seeing outside at all but rather the blur of the street as everything came together out of focus. "It means…so much."

"Is there anything else I can do?" Catherine queried.

"No…that's…that's all I need," he swallowed again.

"Are you okay?" Catherine asked tenderly.

"I'm…fine. I feel…calm," he confessed. "I have to go…I have to pack…" he explained. "Please…please, don't tell anyone about this…"

"Of course I won't," Catherine said in an almost chiding way. "Have…you told Sara yet?"

"No…I'm not sure I should. There's some stuff going on she's dealing with…I don't want her worrying about me…"

"You're going to go through all this alone…?" Catherine trailed off.

"I have to. Sara's got her own problems. I have mines. I'm not going to add to her stress."

"Gil, by not sharing your problems, you're adding to them."

"I know…I know," Gil fell silent for a moment, "Cath…I'm sorry…about what I said…"

Catherine sighed, "Gil, I already forgot all about it," she replied, although he could tell this was a lie for his benefit. He wondered if he had not just told her about the death of his mother if she would be so accommodating. He smiled though ever so slightly though despite the thought.

"I have to go, Cath…I have…so much to do."

"Take care…and keep in touch…if you need someone to talk to…I'm here…I'm always here," Catherine admitted.

"I know…sometimes I just don't appreciate that enough…" he sighed, "Bye…" he murmured softly, and hung up.

Gil stood around in the utility room for several moments trying to get a grip of himself. He reminded himself of the panic attack he'd taken in bed after his first time with Sara, and that he didn't want to go through the same process again. He tried to focus on the way Sara had spoke to him in her smooth calming voice, telling him to breathe in and out. Soon, he was calming down again, calm enough to continue with what needed to be done.

He spent the next fifteen minutes in the utility room making calls to arrange his journey to Santa Monica, where his mother had lived. He called his uncle, advised when he'd be arriving, and then drew his breath and left the utility room.

When he returned to the bedroom, Sara was already getting dressed. She was in the process of sliding on a clean pair of jeans and buttoning them up when he came up behind her and put his arms around her, sighing into her bare shoulder.

"You okay?" Sara asked, she ran her fingers along his arms tenderly.

"I'm fine," He assured, although he didn't feel it. "I love you more than anything, you know that, right?"

Sara sighed, "then why can't you tell me what's going on?"

"Because I do love you," he answered. He kissed her neck softly, then moved away from her, pulling a suitcase out from under his bed.

"If you loved me, you'd just be…honest…with me," Sara responded, she pulled a dark green tanktop out of a bag she'd brought to his house the night before. She slipped it on, and turned towards him.

Gil had no argument for her. She was right, he should have been honest. But then, he was reminded that if she loved him, she would have been just as honest that morning when he'd asked her to admit she had a problem and she'd dallied about doing so.

_No, don't tell her. She gets over emotional, she'll worry about me, and I don't need that. She doesn't need it either. She has too much to worry about. _

He moved over towards her, took her in his arms and kissed her softly, just so she'd know how much he still loved her even though he couldn't tell her what was going wrong in his life right then. _I just need to feel normal, like nothing is wrong. Like this is something I do every day. That's the only way I'll get through this._

Sara stepped back from the kiss to look at him, she cupped his face in her hands and brushed his cheeks with her thumbs, "what could be so bad that I wouldn't understand?" she asked.

"It's not that you wouldn't understand. I know you'd understand," he held her shoulders, "It's just you have your stuff to deal with. I have mines."  
"You don't trust me?" Sara asked.

"Sara…if I didn't trust you, I wouldn't leave you here. You know that, you pointed it out yesterday…" he broke away from her, he had to get packed, he had to get everything done. "I have a drinks cabinet full of liquor. I'm not going to empty it all down the drain. I'm not even going to draw lines on the bottle with a permanent marker for later comparison to see if you've been drinking. I'm trusting you," he looked at her seriously. "I trust you that much."

Sara sat down on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap, "so what am I supposed to do for the next week while you're only God knows where."

"Feed my insects, keep my house fairly neat…" he shrugged, he was aware of how incredibly empty his voice sounded even to himself. He was unsure how Sara had failed to notice. "You'll find something to keep yourself amused."

"If you say so…but this place isn't going to be half as 'amusing' without you in it, Gil."

* * *

My computer got fixed (yay). Turned out it was a loose connection, don't ask me how that happened, but anyway, yeah, I'm back in full force for now.

Thanks to the following people for reviewing from 66 - 67 :)

CSIfreak92, Aidrianna, sarah makinson, Mystical Panther, Hope, saskia2, csishewolf, CrysWimmer, vsky, kristy87, Crystalwitch, jtbwriter, csibugman, Wishing on the Moon, elisacollette, LGraziano, sutton,

Hope I didn't forget anyone there, if I did I apologise - it's so hard to keep up. Please dont' stop reviewing though, I love getting reviews.

Notes to readers:

Wishing on the Moon: Thanks for the "chapter by chapter" review under chapter 66 - it was nice to read those thoughts.

jtbwriter: I know Sara was OOC. But at some point, every char has been OOC both in the show and the story. Life goes on, lol. Besides, it's fun.There'd be no fanfic if they weren't OOC, because if I kept them IC they'd never get together lol.

CSIfreak92: I will at some point get the resolve people want for the little side story with Warrick and Cath. Right now though, the main chars are- and always will be -Grissom and Sara...and I have to concentrate on their storyline for now (but I haven't forgotten about the Cath/Warrick thing. I just threw that in because I thought it was cute.

kristy87: As always, thanks for continuing to rush to be the first one to read and review, lol. It's always nice to get your reviews. You're my favourite "spoiler whore" :)

djkittycat: It's probably not so much "Scottish" as just generally "British" slang if at all,but since I'm apparently marred by my nationality , then thats the way I write. Can't help it, never will be able to, lol.

Ash


	69. Chapter 69: Not About Trust

**Chapter 69**

**Not About Trust**

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****

Gil stayed at his Uncle's house the first two nights back in Santa Monica. He hadn't been able to bring himself to go home to where his mother had lived. It seemed too soon to go back. He needed time. Time to pull himself together and get over the shock first, then he could go back to his mother's house.

Arranging the funeral had been one of the hardest things he felt he'd ever had to do – harder than processing any crime scene. Harder that looking at any decaying corpse. Harder than the first time he'd told Sara he loved her. The whole process of arranging a funeral, and meeting with family he had not seen in years, was overwhelmingly exhausting.

Years of detachment from almost everything in life had taught him how to get through situations like this without a hint of emotion showing through. This stunned his family completely, especially his Uncles daughter, his cousin Rebecca.

He'd been lying in bed in his Uncle Herb's house when he heard Rebecca and his uncle Herb talking in the next room. They'd obviously forgotten how the walls could be thin as paper, and that every single word that was uttered was heard practically as clear as crystal.

"It's disturbing how he can be so completely emotionless…" Rebecca was saying, her voice was dry from years of smoking, although she sounded slightly more emotional than Gil would have given her credit for.

"Give him a break, Becca, his mother just died. He doesn't know how to deal with it," Uncle Herb had replied, Gil heard a sigh, and he could hear someone pacing, the soft lighter step seemed to indicate it was Rebecca who was the one who was pacing.

"I don't know why he even came back," Rebecca admitted, "it seems like he doesn't even care."

Gil closed his eyes, trying to block out the sound of her voice. Of course he cared. It was killing him inside so much he cared. How could she not understand that?

"He cares, Becca. He's just better at dealing with grief than most people are. It's his job…the things he's seen. He's seen death, he deals with it every day. He knows the process, he's used to it."

"No one gets used to their mother dying, Dad," Rebecca replied, "he hasn't been here in…what, three years?"

Gil deeply sighed to himself, she was right. He hadn't been. He'd kept in contact with his mother through frequent letters, but apart from this, he had not visited in the longest time. His job had kept him distracted from even his own family. At the time, this had not seemed a terrible thing at all. Now looking back on it, the guilt began to surface.

"What has that go to do with anything?" Herb demanded.

"Nothing except it proves he didn't care – he's selfish. He cared more about his job than about his own mother."

Gil felt the persistent head pain from trying to hold back tears. He pulled the pillow over his head and tried to drown out the sound completely.

"No wife, no kids, just work. That's all he does. Work," Rebecca was saying, a little more shrill now, "he probably hasn't even had a girlfriend since he was twenty."

"Shut up," Herb replied, "do you want to wake him? He's had a tough day."

The conversation seemed to end right there. Gil took the pillow away from his head, glad the argument was over. It wasn't the first time he'd overheard such discussion. At a family gathering earlier that day he'd heard two distant cousins whispering about his detachment from his family also. A particular distant cousin, who was nineteen, had whispered how incredibly weird he was – that was her exact words.

He'd heard Rebecca talking to someone on the phone earlier that night, and he'd heard Rebecca say so coldly to someone – whom he was unaware – "all she wanted was grandkids…went on all the time about how Gil should settle, get married…have kids. It's sad…she never got what she wanted…her own son didn't even visit her let alone give her any grandkids."

Gil tried to shut the thoughts out of his head. The words stung like the venomous bite of a snake.

_What does Rebecca think I should have done? Just pick any woman and settle down so it'd make my mother happy? Just so she could see grandkids? Life is more complicated than that. How can Rebecca complain about my life when her own is so complicated?_

Despite himself, he found himself trying to imagine holding a child of his own and passing that tiny thing to his mother to hold. That child had no face, he couldn't see it clearly in his head. He could see the smiles on his mothers face, he could almost hear her giddy laughter, but he couldn't picture what any child of his would look like.

He felt like crying again, and had to fight to hold it back. It wasn't that he didn't think his mother deserved a few tears in her passing. It was more that he knew his mother would have never approved of him crying over her.

Sleep still wouldn't come, and he had the overwhelming urge to hear someone else speak to him, he needed to talk. Sighing, he picked his cellular phone from the nightstand and flipped it open. He dialed Catherine's cellular phone.

"Willows," came Catherine's fast reply.

"Hey, it's me," Gil replied hoarsely, quite aware of the emotion in his voice.

"Oh, hey, hold on," Catherine said a moment, she ceased to speak for a minute, he heard background sounds and voices, and then the thud of what sounded like a door closing. "Sorry, I was in the break room," Catherine replied, "how are things?"

"I just figured I would phone…and find out how things are going at work," he answered softly, he leaned back against the pillows of the bed, he wasn't comfortable at all. He wasn't sure if it was the bed, the house he was in, or who was in the next room that made him feel that way.

"Grissom…" Catherine began. He already knew what was coming. He just didn't want to hear it.

"I know…I shouldn't be calling to find out about work," Gil gave a dejected sigh, "just…just tell me."

"Warrick and Greg just finished a case, me and Nick are just taking a short coffee break before continuing with our separate cases," Catherine responded, she paused a minute, "Gil…you sound terrible."

"I know. My cousin Rebecca chain smokes and it's been impossible to not breathe in any of her smoke," he replied, "it's taking it's toll on my voice."

"That's not what I meant," Catherine admitted.

"I know, Cath. I know."

"Do…you need to talk?"

"No…I'm fine…I just…" he trailed off, but he couldn't find the words to continue the sentence.

Catherine gave a moment of silence too, as if she were even finding it awkward of thinking of something else to say. "When's the funeral?"

"Day after tomorrow," he answered. "I'll be back in Vegas the day after the funeral…"

"The others were asking questions today, I told them you were away at a seminar – that you'd had it planned for weeks and had forgotten all about it."

"Did they buy it?"

"Nick buys it, Warrick doesn't," Catherine confessed.

Gil paused, "Cath…can…you do me a big favour…?"

"Yes…?" Catherine asked.

"After your shift…will you check on Sara? She's at my place…will you just…make sure she's okay…and…uh…make sure she's feeding my pets."

"Pets?" Catherine asked, "your pets are the kind of things you'd find stuck to your shoe," she cracked.

It made him smile ever so slightly when she said this, it momentarily eased the tension within him.

"Okay, I'll check on her…is there any reason why she wouldn't be okay?"

Gil chewed her lip, contemplating telling her, but he decided against it. It was Sara's problem, no one else needed to know. If she wanted them to know, she'd tell them on her own. "No…I just…thought maybe, you know, with her being alone in my house with bugs she'd be a little…uncomfortable…"

"Understandable," Catherine replied. "Gil…are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes…I am," he lied. Inside he was sure by now he was crying, outside, he couldn't quite find it in himself to let the tears out.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go…" Catherine sighed, "I have so much to do tonight…but…uh, if anything else comes up and you need to talk…" she trailed off.

"I'll call," Gil promised, he gave a nod although she wasn't even there to see it.

"Bye, Grissom," was Catherine's final words before she hung up on him.

Gil stared down at his phone for a few moments before deciding to call Sara. He'd promised he'd call, and he needed to make sure she was alright, and most importantly, that she wasn't drunk.

He had to pause to even remember his own home number before dialing, and he waited. There was no answer, and he wondered if Sara might even be there.

"Hey, you've reached the phone of Gil Grissom. Leave a message after the beep," he heard his own voice as the answering machine kicked in.

Gil waited for the beep, and then began to speak, "Sara…it's me. Just…checking in…." he trailed off.

There was the click that came when someone picked up the phone during the recording of the message, "Hey," came Sara's response a moment later.

"Why didn't you answer?" Gil asked.

"I wasn't sure if I should…since it is your phone," Sara reminded.

"Oh…well, uh…yeah, I guess…that makes sense," he admitted. He felt the relief overwhelm him that she was not drunk. He could tell by the sound of her voice that she was perfectly sober.

Doesn't mean anything, she was perfectly sober before – but she'd still been drinking when you weren't there. She could have

"Where are you?" Sara asked.

"Does it matter?" he sighed.

"Yes. It matters – to me at least."

"Fine. California…I'm…in California."

"Why are you there?"

"I just am," He rubbed his head, "Sara…I have some things I have to do here…it'll take a while…"

"When will you be back?" Sara asked.

"Sunday."

Sara sighed, "Gil...why can't you just tell me what's going on? You want us to have mutual trust…if you're serious about that why can't you just tell me what you're doing in California right now?"

Gil forced the tears back again, "Sara, I'm just doing what I think is best…for us both. Why I'm here…is not important."

_Yes it is. It's important. Are you crazy? You've just lost your mother, and you're sitting in the dark in your uncle's house giving the woman you love nothing but excuses _

"Don't you trust me?" Sara asked, her voice full of emotion.

"Of course I trust you. Sara, this isn't about trust, okay? Believe me, the last thing it's about is trust."

_No, it's definitely not about trust. I'm putting her needs ahead of my own. Which is what any man would do for the woman he loves. If only I could tell her that…_

Gil noted on the small digital clock by the bedside that it was getting late. Exhaustion was dragging him down, he hadn't been able to sleep before but now it seemed almost inevitable, "Sara…I have to go…"

"When will I hear from you again?" Sara asked, sounding slightly crestfallen.

"I'll give you a call tomorrow," he promised softly.

"Okay," Sara agreed.

Gil drew a breath, "Sara…I love you," he murmured softly.

"I love you too."

When he hung up, he felt slightly better for having talked to her. Her voice had offered him just enough solace to get him through that lonely night.

* * *

Sucky chapter, and the next one is just as sucky but I'm having a bit of a hard time writing at the moment.:P

Thanks to the people who keep reviewing!

Ash


	70. Chapter 70: Broken Down

**Chapter 70**

**Broken Down**

* * *

****

The funeral was the hardest thing Gil had ever had to face in his life. Throughout the whole day he'd been moving through it all like a man in a daze, like a lifeless zombie. His eyes puffy and red but never allowing himself to cry.

Even though he had not taken the time to look around him, he could tell that his family were studying him, much in the same way he knew the members of his team did whenever he was acting particularly uncharacteristic. Only this time, it wasn't that he was uncharacteristic at all, it was that they were waiting for him to do something – to break down.

No, I am not going to break down and give these bastards the satisfaction, he thought. He'd been standing at the edge of his mothers grave when he'd thought this. He'd looked around to see the family members who'd all been talking about him behind his back so much over the past three days. They all averted their gazes, pretended to be so nonchalant about this that it annoyed Gil.

He found himself wondering if Sara would ever understand why he didn't talk about his family. The family who'd always seen him as an outcast – apart from his uncle Herb who'd always treated him like a son.

After the funeral immediately was the reading of the will. How at least half of his family managed to get into the small lawyers office he didn't know. He sat quietly, listening, not surprised at any of the things in his mothers will. Various moneys were allocated to family members, and to him, the most of the assets along with the house and a small piece of land she'd owned.

_I don't want any of it_, he thought. _I'd give it all away right now to anyone who wanted it if that would bring my mother back right now_.

He decided that when he got back, he'd look into donating to various charities. His mother would have liked that, he decided. He'd rather have someone who really needed it benefit rather than take the money for himself. It would probably lay in a bank account and never be claimed otherwise. He had no intentions of touching that money himself.

The reception took place inside of his mothers house, and he was so overwhelmed with the memories that came every time he walked into a room that he had to keep going outside for fresh air to try and recover.

Outside, the sun was setting, casting pink and orange light on the trees lining the driveway. Gil sat on the front steps of the porch. Inside the house he could hear the faint voices of his family talking to each other, their voices sifting through the open door and dissipating into the early evening.

He stared down at the ground, noticing a lonely ant scurrying it's way across the step. It reminded him of childhood, how he'd sit and watch ants through a magnifying glass on this very porch. He'd sit out there fascinated, so fascinated he didn't even hear his mother calling him for dinner.

Gil would have given anything to be able to go back in time right then, and hear his mother call him for dinner just one more time. Just remembering was enough to make his heart sink in his chest, he heaved a heavy sigh that made his lungs feel as if they might have caved in.

He let his elbows rest on his knees and placed his head in his hands, the dull throbbing of a headache surfacing once again. Closing his eyes for a few moments helped, he tried to block out the sounds all around him, and concentrate on making the pain go away.

Tears threatened to erupt, and he forced himself to hold back, which only increased the intensity of the headache now. He felt the drag of despair pulling him down into a dark abyss of depression that he wasn't sure he would ever be able to pull himself back out of.

Something touched his hair, and it startled him completely that he let out a small gasp and flinched away. When he looked up, he was surprised to see Sara Sidle standing there, looking at him with her sad brown eyes, the sunlight bathed her in hues of gold and pink.

"Sara…" he found himself saying. She almost seemed like a mirage in his time of need, a vision. He was glad to see her and yet, he wasn't.

"Catherine came to see me…said she was worried…said you called her, and sounded like you were on the verge of…breaking down."

"Oh…" Gil said, he looked away.

"She was so worried she told me where you were…I had to do my own investigative work to trace you…" she explained, "I couldn't stay away…I was worried too…" she touched his hair again.

Gil wanted to be angry, he wanted to be furious, but somehow couldn't quite find it within himself.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Sara asked softly. "Didn't you think I'd understand?"

"I didn't want to upset you. You…had your own problem to deal with," he confessed tenderly.

"Who cares about my problem?" Sara responded, "this…this is more important."

Gil looked away from her, he felt terrible. Guilty, mostly, but betrayed by Catherine that she could have gone and told Sara about his mother dying. And then there was the anger he wanted to feel, but couldn't. The mix of emotion was what finally was starting to break him down.

Sara took a seat beside him on the porch steps, she took his hand, twining her long slim fingers with his. "I just…I just wish you'd told me…instead of just bottling it all up…"

Gil looked down at their hands, he brushed his thumb against the top of her hand, and then turned around to look at her. "look…I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I do trust you with this, I just…I didn't want to add my problems onto yours…"

"It's okay…I understand," Sara said, "it…was a selfless act."

"Are you mad?" he asked softly, he looked at her guiltily.

"I…want to be mad…but…I don't know, right now I don't even feel a tiny bit mad…just…disappointed…"

"I never meant to disappoint you," he said softly, "I was just doing what I thought was best…"

They were both silent for a moment, it was Sara who spoke again.

"Beautiful sunset."

Gil turned back to stare at the sunset, "I must have watched this sun set a thousand times when I was a kid. Used to be fascinated by the shadows the trees would make on the ground as the sun disappeared behind them."

Sara squeezed his hand again, she rest her head on his shoulder, staring at the sunset with him.

Gil felt a strange peace in him that he'd been missing for the last four days without her company. She couldn't make everything all better, but her presence eased the pain in ways he knew painkillers, alcohol or even never would.

Then to his astonishment, he began speaking, began to open up in ways he'd never thought he'd be able to. "My family…don't really understand me…I've never fit in with them…" he explained, "they're treating me like some outsider, whispering behind my back when they think I can't hear…" he added. "They think I'm weird. Think I'm a freak. It's like high school all over again – except I'm actually related to these people."

"That's why you didn't want me asking about them…" Sara realised.

He shrugged, "most of them are barely strangers related by the thinnest blood," he sucked in a deep breath, "and they'll remain that way. Only reason they're here is to see what my mother left them in her will…

"They don't see how wonderful you are," Sara said.

"No, I'm not wonderful. I abandoned my mother here, I didn't come to see her for three years. I'm what they deem a terrible son."

Sara had no answer for this, or if she did she never let him know about it. Even if she had disagreed with this, Gil would have never wanted to hear it. He knew in his heart what was wrong. Even her words wouldn't have been able to convince him otherwise.

After a few more moments of silence, Gil finally gave a sigh of defeat, and he stood, "come on…there's tea and coffee inside."

Sara stood with him, still holding onto his hand. Gil led her into the house, quite aware of the glances everyone was throwing in their direction.

Sara gazed all around the rooms of the house as they passed the countless mourning relatives. She pretended to be more interesting in the antique furniture and old fashioned wallpaper rather than the peculiar glances they were giving her.

Gil stepped into the kitchen, Sara's hand still in his own, his Uncle Herb was in the process of making tea, he looked over his shoulder to see who had entered.

"Gil, where've you been?" Herb asked, "haven't seen you anywhere in the house," he added

"I was out on the porch, getting some air."" Gil replied, he pulled Sara forward a little, "Herb, this is Sara," he let go of Sara's hand so that she might shake Herb's hand in meeting.

Herb reached out his hand with a warm smile, "pleased to meet you," he said kindly, he shook her one hand in both of his gnarled old hands.

Gil looked at Sara, wondering what her reaction might have been. She was the first woman he'd ever let meet any of his family since dating in high school, he found himself observing. Sara didn't seem uncomfortable at all, which surprised him somewhat.

Gil spoke up, realizing he'd been silent for too long, "Sara is one my team back in Las Vegas."

"Ah, a criminalist," Herb grinned.

Sara just smiled, "not as good as Grissom," she gestured to Gil.

Gil wondered why she'd called him by his surname in front of his uncle, it was probably something even his uncle wouldn't have been familiar with. Then Gil realised that although he'd introduced her to his uncle, he had not introduced her as his girlfriend. Sara had picked up on that immediately, and immediately gone into the same secrecy mode she might have before the team had found out about her dating Gil.

Timidly – slightly uncomfortable about it by being in the same room as a member of his family – he slipped his arm around Sara's shoulders. "She's also the woman I'm in love with," Gil admitted very sheepishly.

Herb's eyes widened just a little, "ohhhh," he then said, and his grin became even wider, "well, that's certainly a surprise. I don't think, uh, you've ever brought a woman to meet the family before."

"Guess I was just waiting for the right woman," Gil said, he turned to look at Sara. She was beaming from ear to ear. He wished he could smile too, but he was still too emotional from everything over the last few days that smiling would seem only empty and wasted.

"It's a shame your mother couldn't have been here," Herb sighed, "she'd have loved to meet Sara."

"I know," Gil glanced down to the floor, "she wanted me to get married – have kids. All the things parents want from their children."

"Parents also want success for their children, Gil. And you are successful, you're smart, you're funny, and you're honest."

Gil sighed, "I just…feel like a terrible disappointment…"

"When we move away from our mothers and fathers, we have to live true to ourselves. We can't live their lives, we have to live our own," Herb replied, "you've lived your life as you felt was true to you. Your mother was proud of you no matter what you did."

Gil felt the tears brim his eyes and he closed his eyes, forcing them away.

_Don't you dare cry, Gil, don't you dare. Not in front of Sara, not in front of Uncle Herb. Don't you dare break down like a child._

"Gil?" Sara asked softly.

"I'm okay, give me a minute…" he kept his eyes closed, he put his hand in front of them, he took in deep even breaths.

"No…no you're not, you're shaking," Sara touched his arm.

His body was defying him, he was indeed shaking. First the sob came without his consent, and then the follow of more. He felt Sara's arms slide around him, and he became pathetic and small, sobbing on her shoulder.

Gil Grissom had finally broken down.

* * *

Yeah, I know, OOC cops will all beon my ass screaming "bitch bitch bitch" in my ear whilst battering me with asps. It just felt right writing it. At this stage, I felt I was making Gil too "unfeeling", so I had to ahve some point where he was just going to break down sooner or later anyway.

Thanks to the following people for reviewing :)

Aidrianna, kristy87, saskia2, lilegyptiangoddess, svcmc, Mystical Panther, csibugman, Hope, vsky, djkittycat.

svcmc: again, I said it was OOC, and I can't do much more than say "yeah, it was OOC", but it's a story and only that. And like I said in previous statements, if it was totally in character, there'd be no story, because Gil and Sara would never have gotten together anyway, lol.

djkittycat: I'm sorry if I can't make every character seem educated as perhaps all the other science and grammer whizzes out there who write GSR do. Me myself, I'm not educated very well, considering I spent most of my school years being beaten to a pulp - I avoided school like the plague - therefore, bad education.(Price to pay for not having my head slammed against a brick wall, or being locked in the janitors cupboard witha guy 3 years older who can pin me down).Thanks for just making me feel very inadequate and reminding me of what a fucking idiot I am. ( I really don't hear it enough from my parents).

Some people seem to be intent on pointing out that only people with English degrees, a complete knowledge in biology, physics, literature, and the legal system in the US are the only people "entitled" to write CSI fanfic. I thought fanfiction was more free than that. Makes me so sad that people get on fanfic authors backs for suchlittle things to the point where it makes the writers not want to write anymore.

SS


	71. Chapter 71: House

**Chapter 71**

**House**

* * *

****

It was strange, lying across that old couch in the living room of his mother's house long after everyone had left. The house was absolutely silent, reminding Gil of how it had been when he'd been a child. The house still was fragrant with the smell of fresh coffee, and the perfumes and colognes of the various relatives who'd passed through during the day.

He'd chosen to stay the night in the house, deciding this would be the very last time he would ever do so. In the morning he would leave for Las Vegas along with Sara, and he would never need to come back again. This was the last chance to say his goodbyes to the house.

Gil sighed and stared around the room thinking of how different things would be once he'd sold the place. He couldn't keep the house, he couldn't think of ever wanting to come back here, no matter how beautiful it was. Without his mother, this wasn't home anymore, it was just a house full of old furniture with it's many memories that were eventually doomed to fade with time.

His head was situated on Sara's lap, her hand gently stroking through his hair tenderly, soothing him. They'd remained that way for some time after the mourners had gone away home.

Gil couldn't find words that seemed to fit the occasion anymore. He'd cried in front of Sara, he felt pathetic and miserable, and so incredibly naked around her that lying with his head on her lap was about all he was capable of doing right now.

Sara was the first to break that silence after the longest time, "what now?" she asked softly.

Gil lay trying to decide what to say. He didn't know what was next himself, "I don't know," he finally admitted.

"You can't go back to work tomorrow like nothing ever happened," Sara brushed the backs of her fingers against his cheek.

"I know," he answered, "but I can't just…sit at home and do nothing…"

"I'll be there though," Sara reminded.

"I need to get back into my busy life…into distraction…I need to be doing something…" he sat up slowly, he rubbed the aching of his neck that began the moment he'd moved, "we still have to figure out what we're going to do about your problem."

"My problem isn't even relevant anymore. I haven't touched alcohol at all since we had the discussion about it…" Sara stood up slowly, she stretched a little. "You worry enough about me, let me worry about you for a change…" she picked up a framed photograph from the mantel and examined it, "you were a cute kid."

"I was a geek," Gil responded, "I don't want you worrying about me. I don't want to be worried about, I want to just…be normal..."

Sara shrugged, "worrying is normal. Being worried about is normal. You're just not used to it…" she put the photograph down and moved back over, "what are you doing about this house?" she asked.

"Selling it," Gil said, "this isn't my home anymore…this just a house now."

"What about all your memories," Sara gestured around her.

"Memories travel," he rubbed his tired eyes, his eyes were puffy and red from having cried earlier that evening.

Sara climbed onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, "don't you want somewhere nice to retire some day?"

"I'm nearly fifty, not sixty, I don't want to be thinking about retirement yet," he responded. "Sara…don't you get it, this is me and my mother lived. I couldn't just…come here and be reminded every day of how things were. It'd destroy me."

Sara stroked his hair again, hugging him so that his cheek was pressed gently against her chest, "okay," she kissed his hair. "What about all the stuff here? Won't you need to pack it or anything?"

"I took a look through most of the important stuff this morning before the funeral. Some of it will be shipped back to Vegas…the rest…my family can fight over. Uncle Herb offered to take care of everything for me…"

"Your uncle Herb…is really sweet, by the way, did I tell you that?" she asked.

"No…"

"When you went away to wash your face, he told me I was beautiful and that I couldn't have gotten hooked up with a nicer guy," she grinned.

Gil gave a soft laugh, "when you took a tour of the house with Rebecca, Herb told me you were stunning."

"What's with your cousin Rebecca, anyway?" Sara asked, "She's…uh…"

"A pain in the ass?" Gil asked, "Yeah, she's high strung, nosy and she hates me. I think it bugs her that Herb seems to like me more than he likes his own daughter."

Sara laughed a little, "after having met her, that's understandable. She told me she'd always thought you were gay."

Gil made a face, "yeah, she's made that insinuation to me more than once, I just usually ignore it. I remind myself of how she's been married four times and two of those ex-husbands are in prison – one for attempted murder. Doesn't cheer me up of course, but it makes me feel less inadequate when she says such things."

Sara smirked, "Anyway…when I told her that me and you were…an item…she looked kinda stunned. I, uh…told her that I know for a fact that you definitely aren't gay. And that, even if you were, it would be none of her business."

"You don't have to defend me to my family," he mumbled.

"I know, but it felt good to put her in her place."

"Thanks…I guess," Gil replied, he closed his eyes, letting her hold him.

"A lot of your family were asking me questions…" Sara confessed, "they're, uh…very…uh…curious…"

"What questions were they asking?" he raised an eyebrow.

"If me and you were getting married…if I was pregnant…if we lived together…why am I dating a man obviously older than me…I just told them our personal life was between me and you and that they'd have to get answers out of you if they wanted them. I get the feeling that they think because I'm slightly younger than you—"

"Fifteen years is not 'slightly' younger," Gil interjected.

"—they think there has to be another reason I'm with you…more than just love…" Sara finished.

"Not an unusual thought to have, is it? People must think that all the time when they see us together. They must think I have a lot of money."

"Or that you're dynamite in bed," Sara responded.

Gil laughed, "yeah…right."

Sara winked, and smiled. "Anyway, your family are so…far up their own asses they can't see anything 'real' in front of them…know what I mean?"

"Wow. I've never had anyone who agreed with me about my family," Gil admitted, "it's…comforting."

Sara smiled and hugged him again, "that's what I'm here for."

Gil nodded, then sighed deeply to himself. The way Sara was holding him now just reminded him of how she'd held him when he'd cried in her arms. He'd had no clue how he could let himself get to breaking point in her presence. He'd never wanted her to see him that way. He felt humiliated, he was still having a hard time looking at her in the face.

"What's wrong?" Sara murmured.

"Nothing, I just…I'm feeling a bit…raw. Emotionally, I mean," he managed.

"I guess I should be glad you're at least admitting you're feeling something," Sara responded, she moved back slightly to look at him, "You have nothing to feel ashamed about, by the way."

"Hmm?"

"Crying."

"Oh. That," the blood rushed to his cheeks.

"I've seen plenty of guys cry," Sara shrugged, "over the stupidest things. I once made a guy cry when I tweezed one of his, uh…pubic…hairs out," she added.

Gil smiled slightly at this, "why would you do that?"

"To prove a woman's pain threshold is higher than a mans," she grinned, she tilted her head down a little and caught him in a soft quick kiss. "Point is, men cry. Don't feel bad about it."

A very sudden question popped into Gil's mind, "do you think it's weird I'm as old as I am and still…unmarried without kids…?"

"No," Sara answered straightforwardly, "is this about that thing you were talking about earlier…with your uncle?"

Gil sighed, "I guess…I can't stop thinking about it…"

"Gil…I didn't know your mom," Sara confessed, "but…I don't think she could have been disappointed in you..."

"But what if they're telling the truth…what if…this marriage thing and the kids thing is all she ever wanted from me…and I couldn't even give her that?"

"I think…they're looking at it the wrong way," Sara admitted, "I mean I'm no expert, I don't know your family, so it's hard to understand the way they think…but…it seems like your mother wanted you to be happy…kids and a wife might have been what she thought might have made you happy, might have completed you. I don't think those things are necessarily what she wanted from you…I think they're what she wanted for you…so you'd be happy."

Gil stared away into space, "I wish I believed that, but I keep getting this image of her holding a baby – a baby that's mines…and the face of that baby is just…blank…"

"Why is the baby's face blank, Gil?"

"I wish I knew," Gil answered. "It could be that I can't imagine what that baby would look like. It might be that the baby is a representation of myself and my life is a blank in my own eyes…there could be a hundred reasons why that baby doesn't have a face.

"Did you ever think, that…maybe in the vision…the reason the baby doesn't have a face is because the only thing you want to do in that vision is give your mother the baby to hold that…somehow the baby itself doesn't matter as much as seeing your mother hold it?" she asked.

Gil looked at her, "would have only been a matter of time before I came across that thought."

Sara kissed his head, "Are you really going to stay here tonight?"

"Yes," he answered. "Last chance for me to make peace with the house. After this…I never want to be here again."

"Okay…" Sara nodded, "do you want me to stay with you, or…" she trailed off, "do you want me to give you the night alone?"

"Don't take this the wrong way," he sighed, "but I think I need to do this alone. You're a distraction," he admitted, but he forced a smile, "and I mean that in a good way."

Sara stood slowly, "it's okay. I checked myself into a hotel, so I'll be there," she moved over to the nearby end table and scribbled the hotel name and room number on the piece of paper, "if you feel like joining me, this is where I'll be."

Gil nodded. He watched Sara pick up her jacket from where she'd left it draped across the back of a chair. She slipped it on and adjusted the collar, fixing her hair. "Sara...I wished you hadn't come," he admitted, "but…I'm glad you did…" he walked her outside to her car.

"I just wished you'd told me," Sara sighed, "but…I understand why you didn't, and I'm fine with it really..."

He led her to the rental car she'd arrived in, he opened the car door for her. They wrapped their arms around each other and kissed lovingly for several moments before Sara's departure. He watched her go then turned to look at the house swathed in the shadows of night for the very last time.

"Well, house. It's just you and me now."

* * *

Thank you so much to all the wonderful people who sent such lovely reviews with kind words and encouraging comments - even to those especially who emailed me to say the wonderful things they've said. It's inspired me into wanting to continue more than I had at the point I was at yesterday. The CSI fanfic readers/writers are surely the most dedicated and open minded people out there, and I thank you all for your support.

I'll mention you all in chapter 72 :)

SS (Ash)


	72. Chapter 72: All I Ask

**Chapter 72**

**All I Ask**

* * *

Gil had stared at every room in the house for the longest time. Taking in every piece of furniture with his eyes one last time before sliding outside and admiring the view.

"Going to miss the place?" his uncle Herb asked, he and Gil were standing on the front path together admiring the house in all it's splendor, the yellow walls needed a paint and a panel of glass on the bay window needed replacing – it had a hairline crack stretching from one corner of the pain to the other. Apart from these things, Gil knew the house would have no problem on the property market.

"I guess," Gil said, "wherever you live is your temple if you treat it like one," he faintly smiled, "I haven't lived here in so long that my temple is now in Vegas rather than here."

Herb nodded, "I understand," he folded his arms comfortably over his pot belly, admiring the view, "so…does Sara live with you in your temple?" he asked slyly.

"No, it's too soon to be making steps like living together," Gil answered.

"Ohhh," Herb nodded, "I can see your point there. You've never lived with a woman before, have you?"

"Apart from my mother, no," Gil answered, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He turned to look at his uncle, and smirked at the combed hair over the shiny bald patch of scalp. Every time Gil saw the man he wanted to take scissors to it, and tell him that the comb-over wasn't hiding anything, but he never brought the subject up.

"Nightmarish," Herb admitted, "always stealing your razors, leaving little feminine things all over the house, things with frills…flowers, things like that."

"Sara isn't into frills and flowers," Gil answered.

"What is she into?"

"I'm still in the process of finding out," Gil admitted.

"By the way you are around each other, I thought maybe you knew each other inside and out…you guys give that impression…having been in love forever."

"Me and Sara have been dating two months," he answered, "it's been a long two months."

"Two months and you already love her," Herb mused.

"I've loved her for five years," Gil admitted, "maybe longer…I'm not sure…" he shrugged, "since the moment I met her there was always the attraction, but when she came to my team it started to escalate."

"I can tell by the way she looks at you that she adores you," Herb admitted, "you're lucky. She's young, she's smart…she's confident – or at least she seemed that way when I heard her talking to your cousin Marlene…"

Gil chuckled softly at this, "yeah…she's brutally honest, she'll always tell you what she thinks."

"So…you love her, but…is she the one?" he asked.

Gil made a face, he wasn't sure how to answer that.

"I mean…do you see yourself settling down with her…?"

Gil had to pause and think about this. It had been a question he'd asked himself a lot, and he'd avoided mostly giving himself an answer. But this was his uncle asking, he couldn't ignore the question.

"I think…in time…possibly," Gil confessed, "I don't see a future – I can't visualize what things will be like in two months – four months – six months time, but I…definitely know there's a future there somewhere…"

"Ah," Herb nodded.

"I'm always open to try new things," Gil said, "I invited her to stay at my house for an entire week – something I have never done with any woman I've ever dated," he admitted.

"Living with her for a week would give you an insight into what things would be like to live together permanently," Herb offered.

"Yeah, I know," Gil admitted, "thing is…I had to leave Sara behind when I came here to take care of the funeral…so I never got to observe how living with her might be."

Herb gave a nod, understanding, he kept his eyes on the house.

Gil stared back towards the house, admiring the dormers, the way the large oak tree outside had it's branches brush against the roof. "Funny thing is…leaving her in my house while I wasn't there taught me a lot."

"Oh?"

"I…normally would be worried…about what she might be doing in my place, what she might be looking for…" he explained, "not that I have anything to hide particularly that might be found in my house," he added. "But the fact is…this week – even though you could say I've been distracted – I haven't been worrying about her being in my house at all…"

"Trust. Essential to a relationship with anyone," Herb assured, "if you trust her like that, then things could go quite far."

Gil gave a slight nod, agreeing.

"Truth is, I hope Sara is the one. I met her once and saw right away you were right for each other. You know when you're doing a jigsaw puzzle and you've been struggling for ages to find the right blasted piece to fit in a section…then you find it and you push it in, and it fits perfectly. The picture is complete. That's what I saw when I saw you and her standing together…it was like…seeing a puzzle completed."

Gil gave a soft laugh, "I…used a similar metaphor when telling her I loved her once," he admitted.

"Would you marry her?"

Gil fell silent for several moments, he had to ask himself this, although once or twice he had asked himself the same thing. Again, he knew he couldn't ignore his uncle, although he'd never given himself a straight answer, "Marriage is…such a massive step. We're two months into a relationship, still trying to work out the kinks."

"Even long after marriage you'd spend the relationship working out the kinks, Gil."

Gil blinked, "I guess you're right."

_Would I marry her? He thought. Would I ever…No…come on, it's two months. Too soon to be thinking about wedding cakes and bridal showers…_

"When I fell in love with your aunt Meredith, I had the same kind of doubts you do – to the point where I was also questioning if it was love," Herb confessed, "and then my father passed on a wise piece of info to me," Herb clamped his hand on Gil's shoulder, "he said to me…imagine your world without her, imagine that the worst thing you could imagine would happen to her, that something would take you from your arms. Is your first thought to find someone else? Or is your first thought that life without her is not life anymore…"

Gil felt a sudden ache in his chest at the thought of something happening to Sara. Her drinking had been enough to scare him, but Herb's words pierced his very soul.

"He said if I couldn't imagine getting through another day without her, that it was definitely love. If it's definitely love, I wouldn't dally. Because god knows how much longer it would be before it would slip through my hands like sand."

"Sounds like Grandpa thought love could be put in a bottle to stop the sand from running away," Gil mused.

There was a comfortable silence, and Gil spent the next few moments thinking about his Uncle's words.

"Well…suitcases in the back of the truck," he gestured to his truck parked in the driveway, "is Sara meeting you at the airport?"

"I called her this morning at the hotel to ask her to meet me there, yeah," Gil answered.

"Well, if you're finished gawking at the house for the last time, then we should get going…you don't want to miss your plane."

"I have plenty of time," Gil admitted, "but…I need to stop by somewhere before I get there…"

"You okay?"

Gil blinked himself out of his reverie and turned to Sara who was sitting at his side in the plane. He'd been staring out of the window for some time now, lost in thought and memories of his life in Santa Monica. It felt like he were leaving a part of himself behind and he found himself wondering if he would ever feel the same again.

"Yes, I'm fine," he nodded, "I'm just tired. I didn't sleep very well last night…"

"Not comfortable on the couch?" Sara asked.

Gil was amused how she'd known he'd slept on the couch even without asking. "How did you know I slept on the couch?"

"I figured you wouldn't have slept in your mom's bed," she admitted, "and I wasn't sure if you'd want to sleep in the room you spent your childhood in, might be a bit too…overwhelming."

Gil smirked, "maybe you know me better than I thought you did," he patted her hand, "I have something for you."

"Oh?" Sara asked with a curious smirk.  
"I…know this isn't the best place to give you this," he admitted, he slipped his hand into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small box, "I thought about waiting…until things were right, but after what you did for me yesterday, the way you came to see me when you were worried for me, the way…you held me when I was breaking down…I think you deserve this."

Sara raised an eyebrow and took the small velvet box from him, "what is it?" she asked, "it's obvious this isn't a proposal of marriage…" she gave a soft laugh, and then she opened the box, and fell silent, "oh…"

"Uh…yeah, it is. Sorry, I'm, uh…so not good at these things…I knew I should have waited until we got back in Vegas."

Sara was staring at the diamond ring in a daze, and she couldn't speak for several minutes. Gil observed her. Her hand was shaking, he took her shaking hand – still holding the open ring box – within both of his.

"Sara…I'm asking you to marry me…" Gil swallowed nervously.

He already knew what her answer was going to be before she spoke, and his heart began to sink in his chest, "Gil…this is…uh…sweet, but…" she began, and she raised her eyes to him.  
"But you can't accept," he dropped her hands, feeling very dejected and suddenly humiliated. He'd just very badly proposed, and now he was being very badly turned down.

Sara looked back to the ring, "it just seems…I don't know, after everything your family were saying…that you might be feeling guilty into wanting to get married…" she explained.

Gil fell silent, "oh."

"And we have been dating for two months…it's hardly a long term relationship, is it?" she pointed out.

"Okay. I get it, you don't want to marry me…"

"Gil, it isn't about that…" Sara trailed off, looking hurt. "This…isn't like you," she gestured to the ring. "This isn't you asking me, this is your family," she handed the box back to him.

"Fine," he took the ring box and slipped it back into his pocket. "Lets just drop it."

"You're upset."

"No," he lied, "I'm just fine. Just…fine."

"Gil, if I accepted, it wouldn't be fair to either of us right now…"

"Fine, I get it," he said, "just drop it. That's all I ask."

* * *

OOC crisis there I think, yeah, but Gil is going through a hard time so I think it can be overlooked lol.

Thanks to the following people for reviewing with their kind words and encouragement, this chapter might have never been written without so much genuine affection for the story and my writing - something I don't fully understand but I appreciate and adore nonetheless.

bear72724, CSICubsFan, oneillite, Chabi, kristy87, CookieK2, PhDelicious, csishewolf, honestly, saskia2, Sharon777, Lagaz, jtbwriter, Hope, Annalisa, svcmc, Sweetpup, Wishing on the Moon, Mystical Panther, Aidrianna, gsr fan817, elisacollette, Gossamerwings7, csibugman, CrysWimmer, lilegyptiangoddess, sarah makinson, and vsky - I think that's everyone...

So many of you out there have said such wonderful things that I wish I could recount them all on here, but the notes at the end of the chapter would be substancially longer than the chapter itself, lol.

Thanks to the following people for taking the time out of theirbusy livesto email me (your words mean more to me than you'll know):

Pippa135, Suzie Hill, Cherubino, and Wishing on the moon. Your words have put my troubled mind to rest ever so much. I'm always touched when people take the time to email me just to ease my worried mind over the things I've been worrying about as of late with this story.

Thanks to Kristy87 for still being there after 70 chapters still wanting to know spoilers, lol. Makes me feel famous somewhat, lol.

SS (Ash).


	73. Chapter 73: Shot Down

**Chapter 73**

**Shot Down**

* * *

He couldn't believe it. Shot down just when he'd thought his life couldn't get any worse. The very first time he'd felt close enough to a woman – in love – enough to propose…and there he was, rejected.

Everything from then on felt strained, and he found it hard to look at her without feeling terribly hurt. How could she say no? Hadn't she wanted the future with him? Hadn't she talked about it before?

When they arrived at his house, there was a note on the fridge from Catherine advising she'd fed the 'pets', and that Gil should call her. Gil avoided making that phone call. He picked the note off of the fridge, and crumpled it up.

Gil stepped through his house, feeling the rooms were somewhat much bigger, much emptier, and he couldn't explain why.

"I…uh…I'll go get my stuff together," Sara said quietly.

Gil looked at her, "you're going home?" he asked.

_First she rejects my proposal, and now she's abandoning me? Oh god, I really have ruined this entire relationship_, he thought in anguish.

"I think right now, y'know….it's best. I left a pile of laundry to do at my house…I need to clean the house…check my mail," she explained. She stood in the middle of the room shifting from foot to feet, she had an uncomfortable look on her face.

Gil tried not to be hurt by her words. He knew what she was saying. She was really saying that right now she found it awkward being near him, after he'd proposed to her on the plane and quite obviously taken it badly that she'd declined.

"Oh," was all Gil could manage.

Sara disappeared into the bedroom, and Gil stood in the kitchen, the crumpled note still in his fist.

He swore mentally to himself.

_Maybe I killed the romance for her when I proposed on the plane. Maybe I should have done it by candlelight with champagne and roses._

Gil tossed the piece of paper away into the garbage, and he made his way to the bedroom. Sara was stuffing her clothes into the bag of clothes she'd brought with her six days ago. She was bent over the bag so that the back of her top raised to reveal the small of her back. Gil felt the urge to touch her skin, and reached out to let his fingers brush against her.

It startled her, she squealed and jumped, spinning around, "oh…Jesus, you scared me!"

"How'd I scare you?" he asked.

"You have a tarantula in this room," Sara reminded, "it felt like something crawling on my back…" she put her hand to her chest. "I thought…maybe it had got loose and…well, y'know…" she made a face.

He smiled emptily, "do you have to go?"  
She sighed, "Well…yes…I mean…I can't stay here forever…"

Gil sat down on the edge of the bed, he noted with some surprise she'd made the bed and what surprised him more was she'd made it in the way he liked it. So completely neat with the pillows on top of the blankets.

"Why?"

"Because I can't," Sara shrugged, "I have my apartment, you have your house…" she reminded. "Two separate homes."

_Why does it have to be that way_? He wondered. _Maybe I'm looking at this all wrong. Maybe I was trying to run before I even learned to walk. Maybe marriage isn't the commitment she was looking for…but maybe I can salvage this somehow_.

"Does it have to be that way?"

Sara raised her eyebrow, "I don't follow…" she admitted.

"Does it have to be that way?" he asked of her again, this time a little more boldly. "Instead of two homes…why not one home?"

"What, you think we should live together?" Sara gave a nervous laugh.

"Yes."

Sara was speechless for several moments, then she threw up her hands in frustration, "you're unbelievable. One minute you're scared of making commitment, the next you're talking about marriage and living together…this is just a little too much to take right now."

"I'm sorry." He sighed, "Being back home in Santa Monica has changed my whole perspective," he admitted. "Things I've heard, things that were said to me…made me realise how…my life isn't really going anywhere, Sara. I'm working, but working towards what?"

"You've never needed goals before, Gil," Sara stuffed a pair of jeans into her bag. "You've always been the kind of guy who lives for today…you never think about what's coming tomorrow."

"This isn't about goals, Sara. It's about what I want."  
"You don't want marriage. You want to be normal in your family's eyes. And trust me, getting married to me isn't going to do that," Sara sighed.

"Do you love me?" Gil asked suddenly, he was suddenly very aware it felt like forever since he'd heard her say the words.

"Yes."

"Tell me," he pleaded.

_I have to hear her say it_, he thought. _If she doesn't say it, then I know I've messed everything up beyond repair._

Sara gave a defeated sigh and she moved over to him, standing before him, "I love you. More than you'll ever get. I've loved you for what felt like forever. Still feels like forever. I will love you forever."

"Then why not marry me!" he burst.

"Because I know it isn't what you want," Sara reached out and stroked her hair.

Gil wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her, his cheek against her stomach, tears began to brim his eyes once again.

"You're grieving, Gil. Your emotions are going on a virtual rollercoaster ride. Up and down, left and right, you don't know which way is which anymore…" she let go of him and knelt down before him. "All this goes away eventually – for the most part – but in the meantime, making any huge decisions is a no-no. By the time you get off the ride, things start looking completely different…" she explained.

Gil sucked in a breath, he felt the overwhelming urge to sob, but held back on it, "this is so unlike me…" he promised.

"I know that. I knew it the minute you asked me to marry you on the plane. Which is why I said no," Sara admitted, "it's not because I don't love you enough…it's just what I know is right and that when you asked you weren't thinking clearly," she chewed her lip. "Trust me, when the rain clears in your head, you'll see that too."

Gil swallowed back the emotion, "Sara…I have to go to work tonight…" he decided to suddenly change the subject. It made him feel better, began to chase the need to cry away.

"No, you're not going anywhere," Sara said, "You go to work, you'll crack under the strain…Cath can handle it a few more days. You need to deal with your own problems before you deal with work."

Gil looked at her through his glassy blue eyes, "I need to, Sara. I'll crack under the strain if I'm here…I'll crack because if I can't work I don't have anything to distract me from feeling this way…"

"And you think being around death and destruction at work is going to make you feel better?" Sara demanded, "Gil, distracting yourself from this will only make you feel worse in the end, believe me, I know."

Gil looked at her, he felt as if he'd had this conversation with her before, only maybe it had been the other way around.

"I've been distracting myself away from my problem my whole life…and it only seems to get worse every time I do," Sara admitted. "You told me I couldn't keep running from it, couldn't keep hiding from it. That I had to deal with it…admit I have a problem," she reminded. "Now it's your turn, Gil, you have to admit you have a problem, and then you can start dealing with it too."

"This isn't a problem. It's a fact of life," Gil said, "death is a fact of life. There's nothing I can do – I can't bring my mother back. Another fact of life, I can't take back what happened on the plane. Instead, I can only try to stop thinking about it until the pain goes away."

"It won't go away," Sara said, "it'll ease, but it's not going to go away. No amount of throwing yourself into work is going to make it go away. And if you think it will, you're only fooling yourself."

Gil felt very much like he'd switched roles with her, a very strange feeling indeed, but it had been something he'd found happening every now and then since he and Sara had grown close. He realised it shouldn't have surprised him anymore, and yet, it did.

"Sara…if I have to think about it, I'll crack…being here…being where I spend all my time thinking…it's going to make it worse…I just need to get out of here…I need distraction…not a permanent distraction, just…I can't explain it, I need to work…it'll make me feel better."

Sara sighed, "If you want to go to work, I can't stop you…and you know that."

"I know," Gil said, "I'd just really like your approval."

"You don't need my approval," Sara folded her arms stubbornly.

"No, but I'd like it nonetheless," he stood up slowly, "I'll stay for half the shift, deal with the mounds of paperwork that have probably piled up by now…and then...I'll be back…"

Sara paused, "just paperwork? No autopsy? No bug analysis on dead bodies out in the desert? No scientific experiments in the lab? No field work under the line of fire?" Sara asked suspiciously.

"Just paperwork," he assured, he was touched she would assume any of those other things might cause him more stress than he could handle. He on the other hand felt any of those things would be the very thing he needed to relieve the stress he was feeling at the moment.

"Fine, then you have my approval," Sara said, defeated at last.

"Great," Gil smiled, "I'll call Cath and tell her I'll be in tonight."

"You're not going to go nuts at Catherine because she told me about your mother are you?" Sara asked cautiously.

"Me…and Catherine will have words," he admitted, his tone indifferent, "whether I'll go mad or not, I'm not sure. I'll only know when I see her."

* * *

Might seem blah, I was sort of drunk when I wrote this but I've kind of sobered up a bit now enough to think it makes enough sense to post...ah, I dunno...

Thanks to the people who revieweed, and keeep reviewing, as always, I'llmention you all in the next chapter (74)

Note: to the user who listed themselves only as "me". The story will have some resolve in the end. In the meantime, just like others in real life, Gil and Sara will have their ups and downs. Nothing is ever a hundred percent okay all of the time. I have to write it as how I see it for the moment. :)

SS


	74. Chapter 74: Blowing Up

**Chapter 74**

**Blowing Up**

* * *

"Grissom! You're back!" said Greg cheerfully as he stepped into the locker room to find Gil taking off his jacket in there. "Hasn't been the same here without you this week."

Gil forced a smile, although it seemed to take far more effort to do so than it should have. "I bet you all never even noticed I was gone," he opened his locker door, something about the familiar rattle it gave as it swung outwards was comforting in a way he couldn't explain even to himself.

"How was the seminar?"

Gil blinked, "Hmm?" he asked.

"Cath said you were away teaching a Seminar," Greg opened his locker to put his rucksack inside. He examined his hair in a mirror on the door of his locker, he flicked his bangs away from his face so that they stood out, he admired himself for a moment before closing the locker.

"Oh, yes…the seminar was fine. Just fine," Gil replied, he pushed his jacket inside and closed the locker.

"Sara go with you?" Greg asked, the concern in his voice was evident, and Gil couldn't help but admire the young man for it.

"Actually, uh, no," Gil answered rather quietly. The locker room door was open and he hoped no one passing had happened to hear.

"I tried to call her at her house, but didn't get an answer…I've been worried," Greg admitted.

"Don't be worried. She's fine. I saw her less than an hour ago. She'll be back here the day after tomorrow."

Greg paused, staring at Gil as if he were a specimen for observation. Gil became immediately uncomfortable with this.

"What?" Gil asked.

"Nothing, you…just sound different," Greg shrugged, "your voice is different."

"Oh," Gil replied. "While I was at the seminar I went with drinks with a few professors," he lied, "a lot of them smoked cigars, I was practically choking on their smoke – my voice has been a little raspy since."

"No, it's not raspy," Greg admitted, "just…" he paused, trying to find the words, then shook it off, "Never mind,"

Gil headed towards the door, "Seen Catherine anywhere?"

"I just got here," Greg gestured to his watch to point out it was ten minutes before the shift was due to start.

Gil made a face, "if you see her…" he began.

"Tell her you're looking for her?" Greg raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Gil answered quietly.

It turned out Catherine had come in an hour early to deal with a case she'd left unsolved the previous shift. Gil hadn't been able to catch her, and he'd been unable to reach her on her cellular phone. He decided either the battery had died, or she might have been out of range.

He assigned cases to the remaining members of his team, letting Warrick fly solo, and Nick take charge of Greg for now, and then retired to his office to take care of any loose ends Catherine hadn't found the time to do. Surprisingly, there was very little paperwork that needed doing. Within an hour and a half he'd managed to cover everything remaining on his desk. Finding a spare moment, he filled in a form to pass on his boss regarding his absence from work for six days. Rather than use sick days, he decided to put it down as vacation time. With the amount of unused vacation time he had stocked up, he had enough cover for it.

After filling out the necessary paperwork, he realised he was indeed sitting idle with no work to do. A strange feeling – the phone on his desk and the phone in his pocket were not ringing persistently. There was no pile of reports piled up on his desk waiting for him to review and sign.

_Catherine has done a very good job of keeping on top of things while I've been away_, Gil thought in despair. He'd have rather come back to more work than even he could handle, it would have been a nice distraction. It would have been nice to be under a deadline just to take his mind off of his troubles for now.

Gil considered briefly that he should perhaps join his team out on the field. The thought of sitting there for the next two and a half hours with nothing to do was overwhelming.

No. It's likely if I do go out on the field that word will get back to Sara, Sara will be mad at me for tackling anything other than paperwork – which was our deal. I agreed – I promised – all I would do was paperwork. And that's all I've done.

He glanced at his watch absently. Still no sign of Catherine either. He'd left her a message on her voice mail that afternoon to advise he'd be in tonight, but had still received no response. For all he knew, Catherine might not even be aware he was sitting at his desk waiting for her to show up.

With a sigh of defeat, he decided he would go home. There was nothing here tonight that demanded his attention.

The locker room door was closed when he approached, and he swung it open without a thought as to why only surprised to see Catherine changing clothes inside. Her hair was soaked, and hanging in limp coils around her shoulders. Her skin was red, and she smelt like cheap soap and shampoo. She had a clean pair of pants on but her top half was exposed except from the flimsiest of bras.

Gil raised an eyebrow immediately at this.

Catherine tried to cover herself quickly, although Gil found it quite amusing that a woman who'd once been a stripper would be so suddenly paranoid of being caught in her bra with a t-shirt in her hands.

"Don't you ever think of knocking?" Catherine asked, standing with the T-shirt covering her chest, her expression agitated.

Gil stepped in, "Cath, you haven't got anything I haven't seen before," he rolled his eyes and passed by her. Amusedly, he thought, _I wonder how Warrick would have responded if he'd been the one to walk in on her…I wonder if he's even mentioned anything to her yet at all? Cath is so perceptive that I find it funny she wouldn't have figured out straight away who was behind the secret admirer thing._

"Doesn't make it right," Catherine responded.

"How can you be shy about your body - you used to be a stripper," he reminded.

"That was then, this is now," Catherine responded, "anyway...how come you're not blushing - if this had happened a year ago, you'd never be able to look me in the eyes again..." she made a face.

Gil mused at this "We share a locker room. The possibility of walking inon aco-worker female or otherwise is always there. If you'd like a more suitable and appropriate arrangement, then I'd suggest taking it up with the powers that be."

"You're my boss. I took it up with you years ago. So did Sara."

"I tried my best, unfortunately I was advised to tell my female staff to consider changing in the ladies restrooms."

Catherine turned her back towards him, and grabbed her clean t-shirt from the bench, "Yeah, well, those cubicles are small and hard to move in," she replied. "Last time I changed in there I hit my elbow off the wall and it hurt for days afterwards. "Besides…I just came from the shower…" There was a small single shower unit in a room at the very back of the locker room that usually went unused other than in states of utter hygienic emergency.

Gil watched her slide the t-shirt on from the corner of his eyes. He bet Warrick would have been sorry to have missed this, even if he could only see her back.Gil was suddenlyaware of the putrid smell of death lingering on her despite the stench of soap had tried to cover over it. "Decomp in an enclosed space," he responded.

"Yes," Catherine sighed. "What is it you always say to use?" she picked up a towel that had been sitting on the bench and towel dried her hair quickly.

"Lemons," Gil opened his locker and took out his jacket. He considered for a few moments how he was going to bring up the situation of her having told Sara about his grieving without letting himself get too flustered about it.

"So when am I going to get the tongue lashing about Sara?" Catherine asked, she searched a hairbrush out of her locker and ran it through her damp hair.

"As of now," Gil answered, glad she'd been the one to bring it up. "Cath, you told me you wouldn't tell anyone," he sighed unhappily.

"I was worried."

"Sara did mention that much," Gil remarked, and his tone had more bite in it than he had intended.

"Gil, are you aware of how different you sound?"

"I've been hearing that a lot lately," Gil replied. "But I assure you, I'm perfectly fine."

"You're acting fine, but your voice tells me different. It's not just the way you say it, it's the change in your tone. Like you don't even have the energy to make yourself sound fine. That's how I knew you weren't okay when you called me two days before the funeral."

"So I wasn't okay then," Gil shrugged, "I am now."

"You're not, I can still hear it," Catherine looked at him, "you think everyone else won't notice? You sound depressed and miserable. If I noticed it, everyone else will…"

"I don't care," Gil replied, although secretly he very much did care. He saw his misery as a weakness anyone working around him would taken into consideration. He didnt' want to be seen as weak right now.

"Why are you even at work? I have everything under control here."

"So I saw. You combattedthe evils of paperwork rather magnificently I must say. I feel I should award you a medal," Gil forced a smile, but it dropped quickly, there was still a slight anger bubbling just below the surface that wasn't about to melt away just her accomplishments at work as of late. "But I'm still…" he trailed off, trying to find the right word.

"Pissed off?" Catherine finished for him.

"In a manner of speaking," Gil replied, "You did betray my trust and tell Sara my what I asked you not to tell anyone when I specifically asked you to keep it to yourself. You asked me if there was anything else you could do for me, Cath…I asked you to please keep it to yourself…" he felt like he should have been yelling, but he had not the energy or capacity right now to raise his voice to much more than a glum murmur.

"Gil…she was frantic, she didn't know where you were or what you were doing. You didn't even tell her where she could reach you, and every time she tried to call your phone she got your voice mail service…"

"Yes, I know. My phone was switched off alot of the time - I got her messages."

"And you ignored them."

"I wasn't ignoring them," Gil answered, "I was just…not ready to speak to her…"

"Gil…you can't do that to someone you love, even if you're trying to protect them, or yourself," Catherine uttered. "You can't keep your whole life a mystery to someone you love…"

"But still…  
"Were you mad when she showed up?" Catherine queried.

"I…" Gil began then stopped, "No…no I wasn't."

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is you told her," Gil said, "the problem is I didn't want her knowing. The problem is that it was my business…"

"Grissom, the problem isn't that I told her. The problem is that _you_ didn't tell her, the problem is that you told me instead of her," Catherine pointed out. "If you don't stop keeping secrets you're going to end up a very lonely man, Grissom. If you don't start opening up to her more you're going to lose her – and after all the sacrifice and emotional investment you've put into the relationship, trust me, if you lose her, you'll never be the same again."

"Look, my relationship with her is fine!" he growled, growing quite annoyed with this conversation. It seemed like every time Catherine tried to give him advice as of late she hit a raw nerve, and right now, that nerve was smarting from her words. "I have opened up to Sara, I've confided in her, told her things I never told anyone else. For Christ's sake, I even proposed to her. You don't know how my relationship with Sara is behind closed doors, so don't you dare stand there accusing me of being a cryptic asshole because you don't have a clue! What I did, I did for her. I kept the secret, to stop from hurting her. End of discussion!"

"You proposed?" Catherine blinked.

"I said 'end of discussion'. That generally refers to the conversation being over. If you have something else to say, you'll just have to bite your that venomous tongue of yours," he pulled his jacket on. "I'm going home."

When he left the building, he mentally kicked himself for letting the conversation go that far. He'd thought he'd crossed the line the first time with Catherine, now he was certain he was so far past that line, he couldn't even see it anymore.

Once he'd gotten into his car, the anger seemed to quickly dissipate. The release of the anger had somehow relieved the anxiety inside of him in ways he'd never thought it would.

Gil heard a knock on the window of the drivers side of his car just as he'd been about to start the engine. He turned, he was surprised to see Catherine standing there, looking rather upset. Sighing, he rolled the window down. He waited, expectant to receive an earful of verbal abuse for his poor behaviour.

"Now that you've had your outburst, don't you feel better?" Catherine leaned her arms on the door.

This hadn't been the response he'd expected. He'd expected something more along the lines of having it pointed out of how completely uncalled for his reaction had been. Gil looked at her, "You…knew I'd get mad like that?"

"Sometimes when you're…upset…the emotion just bottles up until you're like a pressure cooker ready to explode. You're full of all this tension…this stress. Only two things I ever found helped when I've felt that way," she held up two fingers, "Sex. And blowing up at something or someone. So…do you feel better now that you've blown up?"

Gil mused, "I…do feel better."

"Normally I don't take such attitude from men, but you're the exception. If you weren't such an emotional mess, I might have had to kick your ass," Catherine warned, but she smiled.

"Cath, I'm sorry…" He put his hands up in defense, "I felt like you'd backed me into a corner and…I just…fought back."

"I know, it's fine," Catherine assured. "Go on. Go home, get some rest…"

"I really, really don't appreciate you enough."

"Stop with the sappy words, and get home. I can't stand out here all day listening to you – unlike some people I have a case to work on," she grinned.

"Wish I did," Gil remarked. It was the last thing he said to her before pulling out of the parking lot and driving off.

* * *

Yeah, I know. Blah chapter (other people don't see it as blah but I kind of do). 

Thanks to the following readers for reviewing with such kind words...

LGraziano, sarah makinson, csids9, Mystical Panther, CSIFreak92, ElisaCollette, lilegyptiangoddess, Aidrianna, kristy87, djkittycat, me (who is me?), bear72724, CSI-phreak, CSICubsFan, csibugman

I think that's everyone up chapter 72 and upwards - It's getting so hard to keep up with you all:)

PS: This chapter is late because I decided to take a day off in the light of Easter. So much chocolate, so little time.

SS


	75. Chapter 75: Frustration

**Chapter 75**

**Frustrated**

* * *

****

After one more vacation day, Gil had felt together enough to return to work, and Sara returned to work the same day now that her week suspension had ended. Within two weeks, everything more or less seemed to slowly gain it's semblance of normality – and normality in the Las Vegas Crime Lab meant an overwhelming caseload which usually resulted in too much overtime, overworked CSIs, and a lack of any social life.

Gil was glad to be working hard in the lab again, to be out in the field, to be solving crimes. Working had taken a lot of pressure away from the grieving process, easing it as the days wore on.

Being at work was easier than being with Sara for the moment. Although he and Sara were still very much together, the relationship still had the strain on it that had come after his proposal.

He understood that this would pass with time, but burying himself in his work for that first week helped deal with any of the emotional stress he felt. By the time the week was over, he'd decided to confront the issue with Sara. He'd had a week to clear his head and grieve, and work through it, and she'd had the week to get over the initial shock, but the subject certainly still needed some discussion before it could be completely dismissed.

Before he'd had a chance to think about approaching the subject with, his complete work schedule was turned upside down – as was his life.

A triple homicide in a hotel with no witnesses, two different murder weapons, six different possible suspects, and no apparent motives had the whole dayshift in a complete and utter frenzy, and when there was much frustration, and no leads, Gil was switched temporarily into dayshift to help solve the case.

Being thrown into dayshift for a whole week for the first time in what felt like forever, threw not only his body clock into turmoil, but his relationship with Sara began to severely suffer.

While he was working his shift, she was sleeping, and when he was sleeping she was working on hers. As he was leaving his shift, she was clocking in for her shift. Phone calls weren't working, when one called, the other wasn't home or was sleeping soundly – it seemed almost inevitable. The only direct contact Gil had managed to have with her was to send a text message to her phone to advise her he was thinking about her – only a moment later he'd received one advising she was doing the same.

Gil suspected that even if he and Sara had lived together – just as he'd suggested the day they'd returned to Las Vegas – they still would have never found the time to see each other in between the hectic schedules of CSI.

Almost a week had gone by and they hadn't seen each other at all even at work. Gil was becoming increasingly frustrated with this. It wasn't only because he missed her company and was beginning to feel concern that their relationship might die out from lack of communication that he was frustrated. Sexual frustration was beginning to eat at him too. It had been three weeks since they'd been intimate, and after so long, even being extremely self-sufficient in that area wasn't relieving the tension.

On the sixth day of his dayshift switch, he'd taken three hours overtime to go over some new evidence he'd found. He was also intent that if he should happen to wait long enough, eventually he'd run into Sara somewhere. And he was right.

He'd been in one of the labs on his own, working on a new experiment to prove a theory on the case he was working right. Sara had walked in, and she didn't seem surprised to find him there.

"Hey," she said casually, she wandered over to him, shoving her hands in the pockets of her pants.

Gil smiled, "long time no see."

"Tell me about it," Sara sighed, she leaned against the countertop at which he was working.

"Being on different shifts is insane," he uttered.

"It's driving me crazy," Sara confessed, she watched him setting up his experiment, but didn't ask what it was exactly he was doing

"You're not the only one," he stared at her, somehow, she could make wearing a plain brown t-shirt and black pants look incredibly attractive. He ached merely from the sight of her, and he had to fight the urge to pin her on the counter top and take her right then and there.

_My god, this is insane. Three people are dead, I can't solve this case, and all I can think about is sex._

Gil slammed his hands down on the counter in frustration, "I'm not sleeping right, I feel completely drained all the time, I can't think straight…I'm pulling double shifts here, and I still feel no closer to making any progress," he uttered under his breath, his eyes fell to her chest, and he stared for the longest time trying to remember how she looked naked.

_Stop it,_ he told himself, and he raised his eyes back to her face.

"Still not solved the case, then?" Sara asked, although the answer was rather obvious already.

"If I had, do you think I'd be standing here?" Gil raised an eyebrow.

Sara shrugged, "guess not. How is the case going? Do you want to talk about it or anything? I have five minutes before I'm due to start my shift…"

"We found some new evidence today that possibly points to yet another suspect…but something doesn't add up and we just keep hitting dead ends left, right and centre. Seven suspects – all with completely different stories that despite they don't match with each others accounts, they still somehow coincide with the crime scene…it's hard to pinpoint who's the liar and who's being honest. There are some very capable CSIs on dayshift, and even they can't come up with any new answers. I'm playing with theories here," he gestured to his experiment. "but making barely any progress at all."

"I'm sorry. I know how frustrating that can be."

There was an uncomfortable silence, and neither of them knew what to say to each other. Sara sighed and looked towards the floor forlornly.

Gil was the one to break the silence, finally. "I know that I just had six consecutive days off three weeks ago, but I think I really need a vacation," he grumbled tiredly.

"You look like you do," Sara admitted, "if you're not sleeping at night, why not take some sedatives?" she queried.

"Sedatives don't agree with me. I wake up feeling disorientated and out of sorts. Besides…I'm trying to not let my body clock be trained into sleeping at night," he responded, "by the time I get back to night shift, I'll be in worse shape if that happens. I'd rather endure the exhaustion right now, I know I can catch up on sleep later."

Sara glanced at her watch, "I better go get my assignment from Catherine," she sighed. Catherine Willows was acting supervisor for the moment in Gil's place.

"Yeah," Gil agreed in defeat.

Sara stared away from him, and a sad smile played about her lips, "I guess I'll see you around…"

Gil glanced around him awkwardly for a moment, then touched her arm, "this is going to blow over eventually, Sara."

"I know," Sara answered, "it's just hard. Every so often we go through these periods where we barely see each other at all and I start asking myself if we're even together or if it's all just something I imagined."

He nodded, "I know…and trust me, you're not the only one," he assured. "I'd, uh…kiss you now, but anyone could be watching through the glass."

"I understand," Sara gave a firm nod, she straightened, took her hands out of her pocket and headed for the door. "I'll catch you later, Grissom."

"Grissom, I'm glad I caught you before you left," Catherine caught Gil in his office just as Gil was getting ready to leave after the three hours overtime. "I need to hand this in."

Gil raised his eyes to see her, she was standing in the doorway, her field kit case in one hand, and a slice of paper in the other.

Catherine held up a sheet of paper. "I was handed it by the lab director but it needs your signature," she explained.

Gil took it, without even reading it, he signed it with a sigh.

"You didn't even read that," Catherine replied.

He gave a nonchalant shrug.

"You might have just signed your death warrant for all you know," Catherine teased. "You look exhausted, by the way.

"I fine," Gil replied coarsely.

"Yeah, fine is stretched tightly over your face," Catherine remarked, "how much longer do you think this case is going to keep you off nights?" she asked.

"As long as it needs to until it's solved," Gil retorted, "it's driving me crazy. The longer we take on this case, the colder it's getting. It's on priority," Gil answered, "The Sheriff is breathing down my neck like a damn stalker, and all the overtime and double shifts in the world are barely making any difference."

"Tough case," Catherine answered. "You are overworking yourself. Look at you, you look like you haven't been to bed in three days."

"I feel like answers are right in front of me, but I just can't see them," Gil complained.

"You're cranky. You're not getting enough sleep," Catherine pointed out, "oh…by the way, I think I know who my secret admirer is."

Gil slipped his jacket on, "you do?" he asked.

"It's Nick, right?" Catherine gave a curious smile.

"Uh…why don't you go ask him? And please…let me know how that turns out?" Gil suggested, he wasn't in the mood to tell her that Nick wasn't her secret admirer. He wondered where she could have come up with the suspicion for this in the first place. "I gotta go."

"I gotta go meet Greg and Warrick at a crime scene," Catherine replied, "c'mon, I'll walk you to your car."

As they walked, Catherine briefed him quickly about the case she was working on with Greg and Warrick. Sara was on a solo case tonight on her own. When they'd finally gotten outside, and were standing by their cars – parked side by side – Catherine finally decided to suddenly bring up something Gil had thought she had long forgotten about.

"I notice Sara isn't wearing an engagement ring."

"Pardon?" Gil asked, he slipped his car key into the lock of the drivers door and twisted, he pulled the door open.

"Remember…we were talking – or rather you were yelling – two weeks ago, and you said you proposed," Catherine reminded.

"Oh…yeah," Gil sighed, he wished she hadn't brought the subject up. Now this would mean another night of not being able to sleep for thinking about the complete and utter mess he'd made of the proposal on the plane.

"So…this is a pretty huge thing, huh? You must not want everyone to know yet," Catherine decided, "I mean…if Sara isn't wearing the ring then obviously you're keeping it on the down low," She gestured towards the ground playfully.

"Actually, uh…" Gil paused, he drew his breath, and then through clenched teeth, he admitted, "she…turned me down."

Catherine had been unlocking trunk of her car to slide her field kit in. She did a double take, "she what?"

"Turned me down. Rejected the proposal. Shot me down like a clay pigeon," Gil replied hoarsely.

"Wow."

"It's a long…long and rather drawn out story I don't want to get into at the moment. Lets just say there won't be any wedding bells soon," Gil said, "or in the true Las Vegas style, we won't be saying 'I do' in front of Elvis."

"I don't believe she turned you down," Catherine seemed rather surprised.

"Makes two of us, I guess." Gil gave a shrug, and without another word, climbed into his car, without another word, he shut the door, pulled on his seatbelt, started the car and soon was on his way home.

* * *

Yep, blah chapter.

Thanks to the people who reviewed (as per usual I'll mention your names in 76). :)

Notes to certain readers in the meantime:

OrganizedChaos1982: Mine and Mines are problems with the British language, I have a hard time getting out of the habit. That is my fault, however, the scenes shifting suddenly from one to the other without any space is actually a formatting thing. Normally I try to put some asterisks inbetween the scene changes but formatting just basically makes them vanish...and sometimes I don't always realise it.

lilegyptiangoddess: I have seen some of the G/S music vids out there, and in fact, I've made a few (which are somewhere littered in G/S music video thread at They don't inspire me, but they're fun to watch and make :) I get my inspiration without needing videos - music inspires me enough :)

Wishing on the Moon: Thanks for your emails - and like I mentioned, I will at some point wrap up Cath's secret admirer storyline. It's just a tiny back story, more of a filler for amusement than anything else, but I haven't forgotten (there's even a very small mention of it in this chapter just to show you I haven't forgotten, lol).


	76. Chapter 76: Drunk

**Chapter 76**

**Drunk**

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****

When Gil wrapped up the murder case, for the first time in years, he got miraculously drunk. Originally, the idea had been to leave work on time at the end of the final dayshift and catch Sara at home – he felt more than pleased that somehow fate had allowed it that he should solve the case on Sara's day off.

His plans to make it to Sara's had been thwarted immediately when he'd been approached by the dayshift team. After having stressed nonstop for eight running days, celebratory drinks with the dayshift CSIs had been somewhat unavoidable.

Gil efforts in solving the case had been appreciated more than he'd even realised, and what had started out as the promise of just going out for one drink – in the spirit of not trying to be a killjoy - had quickly escalated. One drink become four drinks, then four drinks somehow became eight, and after eight he began to lose count of how many drinks the team did buy him, or how many in return he'd bought them.

With each consumed drink, he found himself only thinking of Sara more, and wishing to get to her.

Every time he advised the CSIs he was drinking with that he should go – that he had personal matters to attend to – he'd be convinced into staying for one more drink, and the cycle would repeat itself. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew full well this had been several months ago, there'd be no way in hell he'd even be sitting in that bar right now, let alone be drunk.

It was almost ten pm before Gil found he could no longer piece together the sentences of most of the famous quotes he knew by heart. Finally, it seemed it was time to stop accepting drinks. When he couldn't remember things, that's when he knew he'd reached his limit.

By the time he'd finally managed to walk away from the bar – or rather stagger – his head was pleasantly buzzing although he was still rather alert. Despite he still felt sharp enough to know where he was going and what he was doing, his body didn't seem to know anything at all. Suddenly, the slightest bump in the sidewalk would cause him to lose his balance and fall, the slightest crack would cause him to trip.

Even as drunk as he was, his only thought was to get to Sara. Over two weeks of separation had been eating at him, and it was finally time to close some of the distance that work – as well as other emotional issues – had kept them apart.

_I'm going to feel this tomorrow, _he thought as he picked himself up from yet another fall, this time down the first four steps in the stairwell of Sara's apartment building.

The last drink he'd had had been a double scotch, and he'd neglected to realise that the drink might have decided to kick in by the time he had walked to Sara's apartment rather than the opposite. He'd much assumed that he'd have managed to somehow sober up on the walk. No such luck.

When Sara had answered the door to him, he'd practically fallen in, landing on his knees on the hardwood floor with a soft thud, he caught himself on his hands.

"Gil?" Sara asked in confusion, she'd stepped aside just in time to avoid him landing on her.

"Sorry, I'm a bit unsteady," he replied with a good natured laugh, and he pulled himself up, swaying heavily from intoxication. He took a good look at her, and thought of how marvelous she looked in lime green pajamas with cartoon pigs, and pink terrycloth slippers. Her brown hair was tied back in a taut ponytail, and not a stitch of makeup spoiled her face.

"Are you drunk?" Sara gaped, as if she couldn't quite believe it.

"Probably," Gil rubbed his face tiredly.

"You are drunk," Sara then remarked, studying him for a moment. She had an ex-expression of defeat playing around her face. "I tried calling you earlier on your cell phone…just kept getting through to your voicemail service."

Gil paused to think, and suddenly realised he'd left his phone at work inadvertently. "It's at work," he sighed.

"How much have you been drinking?" Sara closed the front door.

"I…don't know, I lost count," he stared her up and down, he tried to think of something ultimately Earth shattering that would verbally seduce her enough into wanting to make love with him right at that moment, but by the disenchanted expression on her face, he realised the chances of that happening were becoming slimmer and slimmer by the moment.

"Drinking alone?"

"With dayshift. They insisted…didn't want to bring them down when they were all so pleased with wrapping up the case," he slurred.

"You have dirt on your jacket," Sara sighed, she grabbed onto the collar of his jacket and began to tug it off of him in a rather rough and careless fashion.

"I fell," Gil replied, raising his arms as she yanked on the jacket.

"More than once by the look of it."

"Ow, take it easy," he winced as she tugged too hard, hurting his arm.

Sara removed the jacket from him, "I can't believe you got drunk."

"What's the big deal?" he suddenly spurt, "I've been on this case for eight days running with very little sleep, huge amounts of stress…" he trailed off, "so what if I have a couple of drinks after work…?"

"Are you forgetting the whole 'alcohol' conversation we had over three weeks ago?" Sara asked, folding her arms.

Gil placed his hand against the wall to steady himself, "no…I'm not forgetting. I just…I don't know…" he put his hand to his head, "I can't think straight right now…all I could think about was coming to see you…" he stared at her again, he tried not to let it get to him but it was unavoidable. He wanted her. He'd spent two weeks wanting her, and not having her, and now that she was there in front of him, it was impossible to ignore. "God you're beautiful."

Sara sighed again, and she dropped her arms, "now that's the liquor talking," she replied.

"No…no it's not…" he reached out for her, catching her by the shoulders, he pulled her to him and drunkenly tried to kiss her, she recoiled, pushing him back forcefully.

"Not in this life time," she warned him with a venomous look in her dark brown eyes.

_Why's she looking at me like that? All I did was get drunk, it's hardly grounds for dirty looks…_

He tried to ignore his thoughts for now, deciding he might have been misinterpreting that expression in her eyes. "We haven't had sex in…" he stopped, trying to count, "twenty-three days…"

"I can't believe you're even counting," Sara retorted, "And we won't be having sex anytime soon. You're hammered. Look at you…you can't even stand straight."

"I'm standing fine," he assured. He wished he had more grasp on his body language to convince her otherwise. Right now, he felt as if the whole world were slightly off centre and at an odd twenty degree tilt. He reached out for the wall again to steady himself, the wall had seemed much nearer than it actually had been and his fingers missed it and he fell once again.

"Go sleep it off," Sara gestured to her bedroom with a sigh of defeat.

"Do you know the last time I was drunk?" he asked insolently, he pulled himself up awkwardly, using the wall for leverage.

"No."

"Neither do I," he confessed in, "way you're acting, you'd think this was something I did on a regular basis."

"It's not, and that's what bothers me about it. You don't even look like yourself anymore…and you're leering at me, it's creeping me out."

"I'm sorry, I'll try not to," he replied, although his eyes fell to her chest once again. The words 'purple bra' rang through his mind like a rather loud siren although he knew there was no chance in hell she might be wearing it. She wouldn't be wearing anything under that pajama top.

"You're still doing it, Gil."

"I'm sorry…" he raised his eyes back to hers, briefly, quickly flashed one more look at her chest before turning his attention back to her.

"Just go to my bedroom and sleep it off."

"What about sex?" he asked hopefully, he kicked himself for being so blunt, up until four days ago, he'd always considered any intimacy with Sara as making love. He supposed it could just be the liquor giving him the courage to be much more direct than usual. Courage doubled with liquor and frustration. Not a very nice combination for someone as quiet and reserved as Gil Grissom.

"No chance," she laughed. "Try taking a cold shower."

"You don't want to be with me?" he sighed, feeling rather dejected.

"This isn't about me not wanting to," Sara protested.

_Could have fooled me, _he thought.

"Then what is it about?" he dared to ask.

"You're drunk and I'm menstruating," she grumbled. "So you may as well get the idea of sex out of your head."

"No need for that cold shower now…" he decided in defeat, feeling rather turned off just by the thought. He didn't feel mortified by her admission, but he wondered had he been much more sober, would he have turned pink around the ears, and looked away from her in distress.

"You're so unlike yourself right now, it's scaring me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he objected. "I'm just the way I've always been…only drunker," he shrugged.

"Just go lie down," Sara pointed towards the bedroom again, she averted her gaze from him, he wasn't sure if she was embarrassed or annoyed. "You need to sleep this off, Gil."

Gil sighed, realizing she was right, and he headed towards her bedroom with not another word. Without even removing his shoes he dropped to the bed, surprised he had not realised how truly exhausted he had been. He was sleeping within seconds, a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

Yeah, it's OOC, what can I do? I just thought it'd be nice to see the table tipped a bit here.

Ah, anyway: Thanks to the following reviewers...

lilegyptiangoddess, Mystical Panther, PamIrL, sarah makinson, jbr12476, Hope, NimrodDuckie, Aidriana, leddy, Wishing on the Moon, Niebezpiczny Kziezyc, michele, OrganizedChaos1982, the mad wanderer, kristy87, ElisaCollette, csibugman

Your reviews mean so much to me :) They continue to make my day every day :)

Ash


	77. Chapter 77: You're Mad

**Chapter 77**

**You're Mad**

* * *

****

The first thing Gil felt when he woke up was the nausea. It seemed to roll in waves up his stomach and continuing to his throat. He wasn't familiar with his surroundings at first, disorientated for several moments not remembering where he'd been or what he'd done. But he was in Sara's bedroom, lying over the covers in his clothes. His shoes were off and his shirt collar had been loosened.

Nausea came in more waves, and this time he knew he had to act fast before he threw up all over the bed. He just barely made it to the bathroom, barely even noticing Sara sleeping soundly on the couch in the living room, the was television on, VH1 music was blaring throughout the living room.

Vague details of the night swayed in and out of his head while evil nausea tugged at his insides as he leaned over the toilet in order to rid himself of any traces of the toxic poison that was alcohol.

Gil hadn't suffered a hangover in quite some time, which he supposed contributed to how bad this one was. If he'd suffered one quite recently, he'd have remembered how lousy the feeling was.

After nausea had done it's wicked deed on him, he sat on the floor, back against the cool tile wall beside the bathtub, he felt weak and disgraceful.

_Nearly fifty years old and still can't hold your liquor,_ he thought miserably to himself. He sat there for some moments trying to pull himself together enough to get up before finally finding the strength to do so. He moved to the sink, used a finger to brush his teeth as best he could and try and remove the taste and smell of vomit, and then he splashed cold water on his face. When his hands touched the water, he felt the sting of cuts he hadn't realised were there, there was a tiny splinter of glass embedded in his skin, he was amazed it could have survived there all night without him realizing it. He pulled it out and washed it down the drain and tried to clean the cut as best he could.

He glanced in the mirror once before turning to step into the living room, giving himself an awkward glance and realizing how much at that moment he really did look his age – perhaps even older.

When he wandered into the living room, Sara was still soundly sleeping. Gil picked up the TV remote and lowered the volume of Elton John's 'I'm Still Standing'. He knelt by the couch and watched Sara.

She was peaceful, bathed in the light of the morning, all curled up in the fetal position, her lips slightly parted.

Gil gave a sigh and leaned over to kiss her head affectionately.

Sara stirred, and rolled over onto her back, bringing her knees up, "Gil?" she asked, eyes closed tightly as a beam of sunlight cut across her face.

"Go back to sleep," Gil murmured, "I'm gonna head off…"

Sara sat slowly, and stretched, "no…don't go yet…" she replied, there was a firmness in her voice that was usually only used at work when speaking with suspects. Gil felt chills run up his spine.

She was mad at him again.

Sara spent a few moments trying to wake up, she sat with her head in her hands, as if trying to compose her thoughts.

Gil decided he would be the one to break this awkward silence, "I'm sorry…" he said.

"What were you thinking last night?" Sara asked, she moved her hair away from her face and sighed, her eyes were extremely tired, Gil realised she'd probably only gone to sleep a few hours ago – being on the nightshift, her sleeping pattern was usually confined to the light of day.

"I don't know," Gil replied wearily, "I wasn't."

"Do you even remember what you were like last night?" Sara's eyes fell on him, he was still kneeling on the floor between the couch and the coffee table.

"Vaguely."

"You couldn't stand straight…you kept falling…"

"I guess that's how I got this cut on my hand," he replied with a sigh.

Sara sighed, "I have some bandaids…" she got up and slowly moved to the kitchen.

"You're mad."

"I'm pissed off."

"Why?"

"You have the nerve to even ask that?" Sara opened a cupboard.

"It's not about nerve."

"You know why, Grissom."

"Ah, we're back to Grissom. You must be mad," he smirked despite himself. "Okay, so…this is about…what, the fact that I didn't come straight here to be with you, I went out drinking with Dayshift?"

"No. This is about you coming here drunk, and trying to press for sex. You scared me last night…I didn't trust you last night."

These words hurt.

"Worst of all…you came here drunk after having bitched at me about a drinking problem…" Sara remarked bitterly.

"I said I was sorry."

"Sorry just doesn't quite cut it," Sara threw him a look.

Gil stood up and walked over, "I can't believe you're mad at me for getting drunk – once."

"It's not just that. It's a culmination of everything that's happened in the last few months, Gil. I thought I wanted you to change, but the truth is that you've been changing so much lately that you're not even like yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've lost the same respect you had for your job, you don't spend time thinking much anymore, you tend to act more without thinking than you used to…hell, you proposed to me on the plane…"

"Must we bring that up again?" Gil sighed.

"The point is that these things just aren't what made you you…I'm starting to feel like I'm dating a completely different person from who I fell in love with."

"Love chances people, Sara," Gil retorted, "you changed me. You wanted me to change, you wanted me to make a change, take a chance on you and I did…"

Sara looked away from him.

"Sara…why have you waited all this time to say this to me?"

"It didn't bother me until you showed up at my door drunk last night," Sara answered. "I'm trying to get over a drinking problem here, and your coming here wasted was the last thing I needed to see. The old Gil Grissom wouldn't have ddone something so…insensitive."

"So now I'm insensitive?" Gil asked.

"Among other things," Sara remarked.

Gil tried to purse the anger up inside himself but it refused to stay below the surface, "you know…you…just…you confuse me! You want me one way, then another. You want me to make changes, so I do, and then you decide suddenly you don't like the changes I've made. You wanted commitment, you wanted a future, so I ask you to marry me and you blow me off. I've spent most of this relationship trying to cater to what you want of me, struggling to get to grips with half of it and forcing myself to make major changes which have changed my whole life, and now you're telling me that it's not what you want…it's driving me insane, Sara."

"Yeah, well now you know how it feels to be pulled in and then pushed out," she shot. "I've been putting up with it from you for years before this relationship ever got off the ground. One minute you're flirting, the next minute you're telling me to go out and have a life, then when I date someone you become cold towards me…" she looked at him.

"This isn't the same as that, Sara…"

"How isn't it the same!" she demanded loudly.

"Because you didn't have to make huge changes here, Sara, I did!" he yelled.

Sara frowned, "I left my whole life behind in San Francisco to come running when you needed me at a moments notice. I left a boyfriend, a bought apartment, and six friends to come here," she gestured wildly, "so don't you dare tell me I haven't made changes for you."

Gil fell silent, "You were dating someone back then…when I asked you to come…?"

"Yes, I was," Sara eyes dropped to the countertop. She had the box of bandaids in her hand, but made no attempt to hand them over to him yet. "And I dropped him. Because I was deluding myself into believing that the minute I got here you'd be taking me in your arms and sweeping me off my feet," she gave an ironic laugh.

Gil dropped his gaze to the floor, not sure what to say to this.

"This relationship…has been one disaster after another," Sara sighed.

"We always knew it would be, Sara. We knew that there wouldn't be an exact happy ending once we got together."

"I know that, and yet, I still had myself fooled into thinking that once I was with you, it would be a happy ending."

Gil looked at her, "so…what do you want to do about this, Sara?" he asked, feeling completely emotionally drained, and physically sick still from the after effects of the alcohol. "Do you want to call this a day?"

"Do you?"

"I don't think I could go back to life without you, Sara," Gil admitted truthfully and he watched her, waiting for some kind of reaction. "What about you?"

Sara put her hands over her face, "jesus, I don't know, I just…" she trailed off but seemed incapable of finishing the thought.

"Catherine said to me a few weeks ago that when you're emotional, blowing up at someone, or something helps," Gil said, "we've blown up at each other, I don't have it in me to fight anymore, do you?"

"No. I guess not," Sara sighed.

"It's easier to forgive each other than hold grudges," Gil suggested.

"I know."

"You never answered me, Sara. Do you want to call it a day?" he asked sadly.

Sara sighed, without another word she stepped over, she took his hand and placed a bandaid over the series of small cuts on his palm.

He watched her, mesmerized for some moments, then leaned over to kiss her forehead, and she didn't recoil.

"I'm sorry…I don't know why I got so mad…" Sara finally admitted.

"It's okay. We can pin it down to PMS if you like," he promised. He kissed her forehead again, "are we okay now?"

"Yeah. We're okay."

"What about what we talked about?" he asked, "my changing…your not knowing what you want…"

"We'll figure it out," Sara gave a weak smile.

He embraced her, breathed in the scent of her hair, and sighed in relief that the fight was over, "Okay."

* * *

Another blah chapter, although some of you seem to like the chapters where they have a bit of an argue, so someone out there might have enjoyed this.

Thanks to everyone for their reviews :)


	78. Chapter 78: What Women Want

**Chapter 78**

**What Women Want**

* * *

"Catherine, what do women want?"

The question came out suddenly without much thought while Gil and Catherine were on their way to a crime scene three nights later. The question seemed to catch Catherine off guard, for she turned and looked at him strangely.

"Huh?"

"What do women want?"

"I don't know what you mean by that question," Catherine announced, she let her arm rest on the passenger side door, elbow ever so slightly protruding out of the open window.

"I don't know how to put the question any clearer," Gil slowed to a halt at a stoplight. "Men have been asking themselves the question for centuries and never found the perfect solution. Stands to reason only a woman would know the answer."

"And you think I know the answer?" Catherine said with a smirk.

"You're a woman, aren't you?"

"It's so nice of you to notice," Catherine teased, "so…what do women want…" she paused, leaning back in her seat. "Romantically?"

"Works for me," Gil tapped his hands on the wheel impatiently, waiting for the lights to change.

"Romance, adventure, excitement, amazing sex…" Catherine listed off, "a guy who's honest, sweet, romantic, unselfish and committed, a guy who adores her, but not to the extent he's stalkerish. A guy who isn't a complet"

"What about marriage, kids…big house in the suburbs?" Gil asked with a sigh.

"Is this about Sara turning you down?"

Gil sighed, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Sure you do…you wouldn't have brought it up otherwise," Catherine straightened a little, she tucked her hair behind her ears, "you still don't know why she turned you down?"

"I know…but I don't, if that makes sense," Gil replied, trying to make sense of it himself at the moment was particularly hard, he didn't expect Catherine to understand at all.

"I don't understand."

The lights changed, and soon the car was moving again, "My whole family…they've been talking about me behind my back for years. You know how people can be. 'Gil the outsider', 'Gil the weirdo', 'Gil who has no time for anything but work'."

"Couldn't you have just ignored them?" Catherine queried.

"I used to. I used to be able to ignore them pretty well. It was always pretty much in one ear and out of the other…" Gil began, "weird thing is though, that at my mothers funeral…everything was different somehow."

"Oh?" Catherine asked.

"I couldn't tune out. It's like every whisper was magnified, and I heard every single word. Some of those words bothered me…bothered me in ways they just never would have before."

"What words?"

"Supposedly…my mother had been telling other family members how she wanted me to settle down…raise a family…you know…" he explained.

"What every mother wants for her child," Catherine responded.

"Yeah…and I don't know, I think it just…got to me. Before I knew it I was at a jewelers and I'd bought a ring, next thing I know I'm on the plane and I'm proposing to Sara very unromantically and very inarticulately."

Catherine's eyes widened just a little, "which isn't you."

"Exactly…I plan everything out, I just can't believe I did it myself, but what I can't believe is that Sara turned me down…"

Catherine nodded, just to indicate she was still listening.

"It was a disaster."

"True love never runs smooth," Catherine commented.

Gil kept prattling on almost nervously, "she knew about my family, the things they were saying…but…even then…marriage was just something I'd thought she'd wanted. Before everything went pear-shaped we were talking about futures and it just never occurred to me that she wasn't looking that far ahead…"

Catherine gave a chuckle, "a lot of women have the wedding already planned out in their head midway through the first date. But Sara…she's never struck me as that type, don't know why she would have struck you as."

"I don't think it occurred to me…Sara thinks I was trying to overcompensate."

"For what your family were saying?"

Gil gave a firm nod.

"She's probably right. I mean, god knows, nothing else in your life has ever made you impulsive enough to go out and buy an engagement ring and propose on a plane," Catherine mused. "Grief can do strange things to a person. And I should know…" she stared off into space for a moment.

Gil sighed, "I know…but…the more time I spend thinking about it the less I think my family…or grief…had anything to do with the proposal whatsoever…and the more I try to put any kind of logic on it, the more confused I get."

"It's hard to put logic on matters of the heart, Grissom. There's no science to love that you can dissect and study under a microscope."

"I know. Drives me nuts. You spend all your time thinking there's an answer to everything, but you try to analyze emotions and end up at a dead end."

"If it were all that easy none of us would make so many mistakes over love," Catherine pointed out.

Gil parked the car in a small parking lot near the crime scene, he sighed, "what if I'm – for lack of a better word – unmarriable?"

Catherine chuckled, "are you serious?"

"Yeah," he climbed out and moved to the trunk to pull his field kit out, Catherine followed him. "I mean…I keep odd hours, I've never had any other steady relationships in my life. I'm not good with people – I'm not even good with my own girlfriend…" he explained. "I have the stench of death follow me most of the time, I touch the most disturbing cadavers…these are not the qualities of 'good husband material', really, are they?" he sighed.

"Hey, you're weird, but you're still a man. Any man is capable of being 'marriable'," Catherine decided, "look at Eddie, would you have said he was good husband material?"

"Definitely not," Gil replied after a moment of reflection, he unlocked the trunk of his car and took out the field kit and his LVPD vest.

"I still married him anyway," Catherine added.

"And then you filed for divorce," Gil pointed out a little sourly, "for all I know that could happen to me."

"Unless you intended to jump into bed with another woman, I doubt it would," Catherine replied.

"Anyway, this is all pretty much a moot point since I'm not getting married any time soon," Gil closed the trunk.

"Love can be a pain in the ass, can't it?" Catherine zipped up her own vest and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"Speaking of love…did you ever ask Nick if he was your secret admirer?" Gil queried, feeling a change of subject might be in order.

"I asked, and he just looked at me blankly then laughed and walked away. He didn't say yes, and he didn't say no…" Catherine shrugged.

Gil looked at her, "I still can't believe you haven't figured it out, yet."

"It's not that simple, there's a few guys from work who've asked me out…a few people I work closely with who it could be…" Catherine explained. "This would be all so much simpler if you'd just tell me who in the hell he is instead of being so damn cryptic as usual."

"It's not my place to tell you – or show you – who he is. It's something he has to do himself," Gil answered. "This isn't high school, I'm not going to be the go-between you and this guy with the 'she likes you' and 'he likes you' messages," Gil grinned.

Catherine sighed, "will I EVER know who this guy is?"

Gil stopped for a moment, "okay, listen…how about I set something up?" he asked of her. He was growing

"Huh?"

"So you can find out?"

"You'd do that?"

"Yes," Gil answered.

"How?"

"I think I can convince him to meet you for dinner…" Gil admitted with a whimsical smile.

"Wait…what if it's awkward, just me and this guy?" she asked, her expression suddenly full of concern.

"You never struck me as the type of woman who would find things awkward, Catherine. It's not exactly a blind date. You know this guy pretty well…" Gil explained with a soft laugh.

"It's not you, is it?" Catherine teased.

"Definitely not…" Gil crossed his heart with his left index finger.

Catherine pondered for a moment, "if this is someone I know pretty well…then there's a chance it will be awkward, because…you know…romancing someone who you work with…" she trailed off. "It can cause problems."

"Hey, works for me and Sara."

"Not all of the time," Catherine pointed out. "I used to think dating someone in the work place was okay until you and Sara started doing it…"

"Why do I get the feeling when you say 'doing it' you're not referring to dating?" Gil asked with a raised eyebrow.

Catherine ignored this comment, "What if this guy shows up, and it's the least person in the world I'd expect…" she trailed off.

"You think you'd go into a state of shock?" Gil asked, he seriously doubted this, Catherine was rarely ever shocked, and rarely ever found herself speechless.

"Possibly. Or possibly I just don't want to end up sitting at a table alone with a guy who possibly I can't stand – and there's a chance of that, isn't there?" Catherine pointed out. "God, I mean I could end up arriving and sitting at a table opposite Hodges – do you know how much of a living nightmare that would be?"

Gil smirked, he decided not to tell her that her secret admirer definitely wasn't Hodges, he was quite amused she might even think of that and felt it might be funny to let her think it was for a little while longer. "Okay, how about we double date…?"

"You and Sara and me and secret admirer man?" Catherine raised an eyebrow.

"It might be less awkward – like you said, you don't want to end up sitting alone with a guy you possibly can't stand. I don't think that'll happen, but, if something doesn't feel right, and it does feel awkward and neither of you can speak to each other, at least me and Sara will be there to keep conversation going. Besides, me and Sara haven't been out together in a while – it might be fun."

Catherine paused, "okay. Deal."

* * *

Yes, it's blah, but at least I'm acknowledging some of the "yo!bling" people have been complaining about me ignoring so there ya go :P

Thanks to the following people for reviewing :)

leddy, Solaris-Snape, msgrits, CSIfreak92, psychotic chaos, anonymous, csibugman, NimrodDuckie, kristy87, Mystical Panther, lilegyptiangoddess, gsr fan 817, CSICubsFan, Aidrianna, Sarah Bishop, csishewolf, jbr12476, sarah makinson, alias101, Hope.

I think that might be everyone, god knows, it's getting harder for me to keep track for some reason.

I know this chapter was late, I've had some illness 'cause of my insomnia and I've had some family stuff to take care of, but anyway, I finally got around to updating :)

SS


	79. Chapter 79: Set Up

**Chapter 79**

**Set Up**

* * *

Arriving back from the crime scene that night, Gil caught Sara just about to leave on another case, she was putting her field kit in her car. Gil advised Catherine to go on ahead without him, and he approached Sara there in the parking lot. 

"Hey," he said.

Sara gave a half smile as she closed the trunk.

"How's the case going?" Gil asked casually, he shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped closer.

"It's…going fairly well," she replied, "heading out to a suspects apartment to look for evidence."

"Great," Gil rest his hip against the side of her car, "so…any plans for tomorrow night?" he asked, almost under his breath.

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow night. Night off. Any plans?"

"Uh…no," Sara gave him a strange look, "but…you already know that…"

"Good," Gil nodded with a smirk.

"You want me to come into work?" Sara gave a sigh as if she had already been defeated.

"Actually, uh, no…" Gil folded his arms, he glanced around him quickly before continuing, making sure no one was in the vicinity. "I was thinking of a date."

"A date? We haven't had one of those in a while," Sara responded.

"I know."

"Wait a minute, you're smiling like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland and you only get that look when you have some weird little plan forming in your head. Is there a twist to this?" Sara closed the trunk of her car with a loud thud.

"Twist? No," he responded, and cocked his head slightly, still keeping his eyes on her, "A minor detail, kind of."

"Do tell," Sara leaned against the car.

"We'll be double dating with Catherine and Warrick."

"Catherine and Warrick…" Sara trailed off, "Wait, has he told her then? Or did she find out herself?"

"No, actually she doesn't know at all," Gil answered, his smile was suddenly full of a wicked relish, "I told her we'd double date – the four of us, and I'd make sure I'd get her secret admirer to attend. It'll be…a surprise."

"Or a shock," Sara chuckled.

"Or both," Gil grinned, "So how about it, interested?"

"I think…it might be interesting to see what happens," Sara chewed her lip, she stared off into space trying to imagine it.

"Definitely," Gil nodded.

"I can't wait to see her face," Sara grinned.

Gil laughed under his breath and turned to leave, "neither can I. See you later."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Warrick," Gil said cheerfully as he stepped into the break room ten minutes later to find Warrick sitting at the table, sipping on a soda. "Got a minute?"

Warrick shrugged, "always."

Gil closed the door quietly, no one else was around but he didn't want anyone to overhear the conversation he was about to have with Warrick. "Okay, this thing with Cath has gone on long enough…" he moved over and put both hands on the table, standing slightly hunched.

"What thing?" Warrick said absently, he was reading the sports section of a daily newspaper, his eyes raised up to Gil only momentarily before falling back to the page he was on.

"Don't play innocent," Gil gave a short laugh, "you're driving her crazy. In fact…you're not only driving her crazy, you're also driving me crazy. I'm the one who has to listen to her prattling on when she's begging me to tell her who it is."

Warrick gave a roll of his eyes and a slight smile played about his lips, he looked away then, and pushed the paper around the table absently.

"I've held my tongue for this long, but I'm this close to telling her, so either you do something about it, or I will."

"I can't just go up to her and say 'hey, Cath, guess what?' and tell her, you know. Kills the romance just a little, don't you think?"

"Warrick…how long has this thing gone on? Three months? It's getting ridiculous…Are you going to spend the rest of your time here having this forlorn little obsession with Cath?"

"Like you did with Sara?" Warrick pointed out with an slightly ironic smirk.

"Exactly. Take it from me, I know…I wish I hadn't spent five years wasting my time on work when I could have been with her," Gil explained. "It takes a stupid man to not learn from his own mistake, but an absolute idiot for someone to not learn from someone elses."

Warrick gave a slight laugh, he stared down at the newspaper still.

"What's holding you back with Catherine? You're not the kind of guy who dilly-dallies with women, Warrick. What makes Cath any different?"

"Let me ask something," Warrick straightened a little, "You had this 'thing' for Sara five years…but you dated other women," he pointed out, "so what made Sara different?"

"I didn't…want to hurt her, didn't think I could give her what she wanted, and I was pretty sure that I wasn't…the, uh…okay I see where you're going with this," Gil made a face.

"Exactly. Love notes and anonymous gifts are all good fun. But real love, much more complicated. You should know that better than anyone. Your relationship with Sara over the past few months hasn't exactly been smooth. What if any relationship I had with Cath was doomed to the same kind of failure?"

"You think my relationship with Sara is a failure?" Gil blinked.

"Okay, bad choice of words, uhm…disaster. I mean you and Sara have your ups and downs…when you were working on that murder case last week, your relationship was pretty…uh…strained."

"How do you know that?" Gil asked.

"Only had to look at Sara and see the look on her face every time someone mentioned your name and you knew it," Warrick replied. "I don't want to end up being in that kind of a relationship. Work relationships…bad idea. That's why I've stopped sending her little love notes and roses," he explained.

"Okay, maybe…working together is bad," Gil shrugged, "but there's a lot of good in it too…the fact that the woman you're with actually understands what you go through at work, what you have to deal with every day. Understands it when you've had a bad case and your emotions are feeling a little raw...someone who's going to understand when you get called in on overtime because you miss a date, understands when you show up three hours late for dinner smelling like death."

Warrick nodded, "guess I never looked at it like that," he gave a slight smirk.

Gil took a seat, "no one is saying you have to suddenly go up to her and tell her the truth immediately. I have a plan, actually…"

"You do?" Warrick raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Me, Sara and Cath are going out tomorrow night for drinks. You should come," Gil explained. "The fact you won't be alone with Cath might make things easier. Spending some time outside of work might take the edge off of what you've been worried about. If things go well then…well, the rest is up to you."

"So…she won't know?" Warrick asked.

"Nope…" Gil lied.

"It's just drinks, just hanging out, like friends…?" Warrick asked, "No obligations? No expectations?"

"Of course not," Gil lied, he had to chide himself for lying, Catherine already knew her secret admirer would be making an appearance. But Warrick wouldn't know that, not at least until he did show up.

"Ah, but I'm working tomorrow night," Warrick pointed out.

"Actually, swing shift wants your expertise in a case tomorrow from ten until six," Gil replied, "I'm letting you leave your shift two hours early tonight so that you can get enough sleep for tomorrow's shift – only of course in the condition that you turn up."

"Fine, I'll be there," Warrick nodded.

"Great," Gil smirked, and without another word, he got up and left.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Gil found Catherine in the garage working on their current case, he moved over, "I spoke with your secret admirer," he said, quite pleased with himself.

"And?" Catherine asked, somewhat distractedly as she carried on with her work. She glanced at him out of the corners of her eyes.

"He'll be there."

Catherine smiled brightly and turned to face him, "really?"

"Yeah. But, uh…he doesn't actually know its, uh…a double date," Gil faltered, pretending to be somewhat more bashful about the set up than he actually felt. Of course, it wasn't fair to set Warrick up this way, but it definitely didn't feel wrong to do so. It did feel wrong to feel a certain smugness at knowing what Warrick didn't know, but Gil tried not to let himself feel too guilty about it.

"Are you kidding me?" Catherine raised an eyebrow.

"Actually no. He's a little, uh…uneasy, lets say," Gil confessed, he folded his arms and let his hip rest against the work table Catherine was standing in front of. "I won't go into the reasons, but yeah, he's slightly uneasy. The thought of there being aby obligations or expectations is slightly daunting to him at the moment, so I had to tell a white lie…he thinks he's just going for drinks in general with us – as he put it 'hanging out – like friends'."

"How is this going to work?" Catherine asked.

"Well…we agreed that he'd spend some time drinking with all of us, then, if things are going well, the rest is up to him," Gil explained.

Catherine made a face, "I don't know…the thought of that makes me feel…somewhat, uh, uncomfortable. This isn't how I'm used to operating on dates, Grissom," she reminded.

"Hey, don't worry…just think, Cath, for once YOU'RE the one with the advantage," Gil pointed out, "for once, you're the one holding all the cards. The guy doesn't know you know what you know. If he knew you knew what you knew, I doubt he'd even consider showing up at all."

"Right…" Catherine tried not to look too confused.

"All you have to do is be there, be yourself, don't mention anything to him about what you know, and see how far it takes you and him."

"What if nothing happens, what if he just never even acknowledges it?" Catherine shrugged.

"Cross that bridge when you come to it."

* * *

Thanks to the people who've reviewed so far, I'm kind of excited alot of people are looking forward to the double date chapter (I'm actually looking forward to writing it.) 

A few people have mentioned they'd be interested to see what else I can write, I have written something else besides "Finding Me" (and it has no relevance to "Finding Me" either), it's been written for a while, but it's in the Beta stage right now (thanks to Wishing on the Moon for giving up her free time to do so) and at some point, that'll be uploaded as well. In the meantime,all I have to offer is this chapter of "Finding Me". :)

Ash


	80. Chapter 80: Double Date

**Chapter 80**

**Double Date**

* * *

Gil was the first to arrive at the bar they'd all agreed to meet at. He'd come separately – without Sara. That hadn't been the plan of course, he'd called before he'd been ready to leave advising her he'd pick her up on the way. Sara hadn't been ready yet – some crisis with her laundry – and it had been her idea to meet at the bar.

He'd half finished his beer when Catherine arrived looking almost conservative in a black pant suit save for the satin lapels which did nothing else but draw attention to her cleavage.

Gil took a swig of his beer, he didn't stand to greet her, Catherine didn't need that kind of chivalry.

"He's not here yet," Catherine said looking at Gil suspiciously.

"He will be," Gil responded.

"Where's Sara?" Catherine queried.

"Having some laundry crisis, apparently," Gil chuckled, "she'll be here soon enough…"

Catherine ordered a drink, and she stood looking around anxiously, she sat on the bar stool with her back straight, she seemed uncomfortable, not at all like herself.

"Cath…relax."

"I'm sorry, I don't know WHO is going to show up, here, I keep picturing someone like Ecklie or Hodges coming through that door any minute now…you know, one of those nightmare meets reality situations."

Gil smirked, "turn your back to the door, loosen up, and just be yourself. If he comes through that door and sees you looking anxious, he's going to know right away that this is a set up…he'd simply turn and leave without you ever knowing who he is."

"I'd be less anxious if you'd just tell me who the hell it is instead of all this secrecy crap," Catherine uttered under her breath.

Gil could do nothing but maintain that smirk of his and face the bar, "It's not like you to be nervous."

"I know," Catherine responded with a sigh. "Like I said…I don't know who's coming through that door…" she replied.

"You'll be…surprised…that's all I'm saying," Gil sipped his beer.

"Hey."

Catherine and Gil both turned to see Sara approaching. Clad in black pants and a purple top that gave off the tiniest shimmer when she moved, she looked more than incredible. Her hair was pinned back, drawing attention to her slender neck.

Gil stood immediately, "you're late," he teased.

"I couldn't find my top," Sara made a face, "then I had to wash it and dry it…whole disaster…"

Gil kissed her forehead to greet her, he might have kissed her lips had he not been aware of the way Catherine was sitting staring at them both.

Gil gave her his seat at the bar, it being the only available one now that he'd stood – the others already taken. He stood for some moments reflecting on what he should ask her she wanted from the bar. One thing he hadn't thought of when setting this up was that Sara had been keeping away from all alcohol at his request. Now, that seemed almost unavoidable without bringing the situation up in front of Catherine.

"Sara…what would you like from the bar?" Gil asked, clearing his throat.

Sara paused, she looked at him with the same kind of concern in her eyes that he was feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Can I just have a coke? I'm driving," she finally replied.

"Okay," he replied, feeling much relief, he ordered another round of drinks, since Catherine had already finished hers and he was most of the way through finishing his.

"So, Cath, you nervous?" Sara asked, she sipped on her coke. She took the slice of lemon out and sucked on it, keeping her eyes on her colleague.

"What do you think?" Catherine asked in an obvious way with a roll of her eyes.

Gil took that moment to stare at Sara, feeling that strange temptation to kiss that slender throat of hers right then. It had been a while since they'd been intimate, and he'd never quite managed to forget about it either.

Sara glanced towards Gil, "you're staring."

"Sorry. You look nice."

"Just nice?" Sara raised an eyebrow, but she gave a smile that told him she was teasing.

"Spectacular. You always look spectacular."

"Get a room," Catherine made a face.

Gil laughed softly, he stood by Sara, sliding his arm around her and resting it on her hip, "jealous is an awful thing, Catherine," he grinned.

Catherine gave a nonchalant shrug, "well, secret admirer man is late…" she pointed to her watch.

"He'll be here," Gil assured, still staring at Sara. The thin strap of her purple top moved as Sara raised the glass to her lips, and he saw a shimmer of purple on a strap beneath.

_It's that purple satin bra,_ Gil thought. _Did she have to wear that tonight? How am I going to get through the evening knowing that's what she has on underneath that top?_

"Gil," Sara said after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"You're staring again."

"Sorry, I can't help it."

Catherine tapped her fingers on the bar top impatiently.

"Sorry I'm late, I was caught in an interview at work," came a familiar voice at their backs.

Gil watched Catherine's reaction when he heard Warrick Brown's voice. Catherine had just raised her drink to her lips and nearly sputtered. Somehow she managed to play it off coolly, she didn't dare turn, but Gil could see her eyes were wide.

_Didn't expect it to be Warrick, did you Cath?_ Gil thought with an amused smirk.

"You're not that late - I just got here too," Sara replied, her eyes flicked back and forth between Warrick and Cath.

"Well, it's getting pretty crowded at the bar, now," Gil pointed out, "shall we move to a table?"

"Yeah, I'll be right with you, let me get a beer," Warrick nodded.

Catherine left the bar with Gil and Sara, she seemed to be in some kind of shellshock, she looked over her shoulder at Warrick as they were taking seats at a table on the other side of the bar, way out of earshot of Warrick.

"So, Cath," Sara placed her drink down on the table and took her seat next to Gil, "surprised?"

"Is this…some kind of joke?" Catherine asked in a hush.

"Nope," Gil grinned.

"How could…he be…?" Catherine tried, seemingly unable to finish the sentence.

Gil took a sip of his beer before speaking, "you know that old saying…you never know what's right in front of you?" he asked.

Catherine gave a silent laugh of disbelief, "all this time it's been…?" she trailed off again, unable to finish.

"Catherine, pull yourself together, please, he's coming over," Gil advised.

Warrick took a seat at the table beside Catherine, putting his beer down on the table, "man, it's been a tough day."

_It's probably going to get a whole lot tougher if Catherine doesn't snap out of the shock, _Gil thought, he snuck a glance towards Sara again. He wanted to be able to concentrate on somehow getting Catherine and Warrick on the same wavelength, but it seemed impossible to concentrate on anything but that purple undergarment right at that particular moment.

Catherine said nothing, she just stared at Warrick as if she'd never seen him before. Gil kicked her under the table, regretting he had probably left a footprint on the leg of her black pants.

Catherine winced, perhaps his kick had been a little harder than he'd intended, "how come you were on the day shift?" she asked, looking away from him again, trying to remain as casual as possible, but seemingly finding it hard.

"Gambling case that they needed my help on," Warrick shrugged, "when in doubt, ask the master I guess," he sipped on his beer, his green eyes caught Gil's in a suspicious stare.

Gil couldn't help but feel smug, but he maintained a straight face nonetheless.

After a few more drinks, the strange awkwardness at the table began to slowly ease itself away, and they were soon talking like the old friends they were, sharing laughter and memories.

Despite all this, Gil could see that Catherine was still struggling to cope with the fact that all this time, Warrick had been the one behind the roses, the notes, the diamond earrings. As unabashed as Warrick usually was with women, he seemed to have a certain shyness now around Catherine that Gil had never noticed before.

Even though Gil was admittedly having a good time, and the pleasant swimming in his head was rather enjoyable, he still wanted to leave. Thoughts of getting Sara alone had been playing in his mind since the moment she'd arrived, and he was growing more and more frustrated with waiting out Warrick to make an attempt to tell Catherine about what he'd been doing.

Sara got up to use the ladies room, and after a moment, Gil considered that maybe the problem with Warrick telling Catherine about his secret admirer game might be that he and Sara had been present.

"Excuse me," Gil stood, without giving an explanation he headed off to the small side hallway that led to two small public bathrooms. He stood outside the ladies room for a few moments waiting for Sara.

Sara finally came out, surprised to see him standing there, "you following me?"

"You know it," Gil smirked, "this night is driving me crazy. I figured by now Warrick would have said something to Cath, but he's good at playing innocent."

"Wonder where he gets that from," Sara teased.

"Sara…" Gil began, for some reason he looked around cautiously, "do…you, uh…want to, uh, come back to my place?"

"Is that a proposition?" Sara asked casually, she leaned against the wall.

"God, yes," he uttered, staring at her longingly.

"Wait…aren't you forgetting something?"

"Hmmm?"

"What about Cath and Warrick?"

Gil moved to the end of the hallway to stare over at the table where Catherine and Warrick were sitting talking, "I'm hoping they'll resolve things themselves."

"What excuse would we give that we're leaving?" Sara asked.

"We don't give one, we just leave…"

"Cath will go crazy…" Sara reminded.

"I think as long as we're here, Warrick isn't going to make any moves with Catherine. If we leave, we're probably increasing her chances…"Gil smirked, "anyway, right now…I have other things on my mind…" he took her hand, "come on, lets get out of here while no one is looking."

* * *

Probably not as good a chapter as anyone had hoped but at this point my head is killing me and i just couldn't find a way to make teh chapter better (still at least it's up now).

Thanks to everyone for their kind reviews, my head is killing me so I'm not going to try and name yoiu all right now but I'll try and get you all into 82.

Thanks for reading and reviewing :)

Ash


	81. Chapter 81: Pin Me

**Chapter 81**

**Pin Me**

* * *

****

Gil's cell phone began to ring in a persistent almost crazy way the moment he and Sara had gotten into Sara's car. He'd glanced at the phone momentarily to see that was Catherine calling. He gave a laugh, and switched the phone off, "Catherine," he said to Sara.

Sara smirked, "she's gonna be pissed…" she said in a singsong.

"Right now…ugh, I don't think I really care," he admitted.

"Maybe we should head back," Sara suggested, she toyed with the idea of putting on her seatbelt for a few moments, she hadn't even put the key in the ignition yet.

"No…bad idea," he responded, "besides, now that we're gone, we've probably increased her chances."

"You sure you don't want to go back?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, but the corners of her mouth were twitching as she tried to hide a playful smirk.

"I'm pretty sure," he sucked in a breath.

Sara leaned across the car to kiss his cheek, he turned swiftly and caught her in a full kiss. It took all the restraint in the world to not let that kiss go further, he wasn't even sure he'd be able to wait until they got to his house. Had he perhaps been twenty five years younger, he'd probably have no qualms about taking her right there in the parking at the back of the bar.

_Knowing my luck, Catherine would catch us in the act,_ Gil thought with a slight smirk of his own playing around his lips after he'd ended the kiss. Sara started the car, and soon they were on their way.

There was barely a word uttered between them during the journey, but the interior of the car seemed was filled with the electric energy between them. When she pulled her car down the driveway in front of his house – parking just behind his car – Gil felt he couldn't wait a minute sooner.

Excitedly, he removed his seatbelt and climbed out, made sure the door at his side was locked before searching for his house keys. Sara locked the car, and stepped up behind him, sliding her arms through his and hugging him from behind as he fumbled with the keys in the lock for a moment.

The door swung inwards and they stepped in. Sara shut the door behind herself, only just barely having had the chance to turn around before Gil's mouth was pressed up against hers and she was pushed up against the door.

The house phone started ringing. Gil's lips broke from Sara and he looked over his shoulder down the small hallway.

"Ignore it," Sara took put a hand on each side of his face and turned his head so he'd face her again, she kissed him fervently, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Gil pushed desperately up against her, breaking the kiss for a moment to let out a small gasp of pleasure, "Cath is going to be so pissed," he responded. Somehow, this knowledge seemed to add a sense of danger to the situation, and it was an incredible turn on more than Gil had imagined it would be.

Sara gave a muffled laugh as she kissed his jaw and neck, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

"Where'd you want to…?" he trailed off in an excited sigh, never needing to finish the thought.

"Living room."

"Works for me," he mumbled, walking backwards, pulling her along with him sharing a series of short excited kisses with her. "Couch?"

Sara didn't even hesitate with her response. "Wall."

"Hmm?" he asked, he slid his hands up the back of her top to caress the back strap of the satin bra she was wearing, he kissed along her jaw, letting his tongue caress her hot flesh.

"Wall," she said again, pushing him towards the nearest wall and then spinning them around so he'd be facing it, and her.

Gil grabbed the edges of her top and slipped it over her head, he kissed her deeply once again, and let his fingers caress the purple satin that held her breasts. He trailed kisses down her chin and throat, cupping the satin clad mounds gently in his hands.

"Pin me."

"Excuse me," he broke away from her, eyes wide in wonderment. His hands left her completely and hung at his sides as he stood staring at her.

"You heard," Sara remarked, a devilish smirk played about her lips. She had undone the final button of his shirt and she pushed it down his shoulders, it hung at his elbows now, she began to work on his pants.

"I don't think I heard right," he confessed, his heart was jumping in his chest with nervous excitement, south of his belt, his body was twitching from what she'd said.

Sara leaned close to whisper the words against his ear, her breath hot and delicious, "pin…me…here…against the wall."

He shuddered at the words, remembering the time he'd pinned her arms down on the bed and having accidentally bruised her. He was afraid of accidentally doing the same thing again.

Sara kicked off her shoes, then stepped back so that her back was pressed right against the wall, she held her arms up above her head, crossing them at the wrist. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to do as she'd asked. "Do it."

Gil stepped towards her, realizing he only needed one hand to be able to successfully pin her wrists against the wall, he reached out his left hand, shaking. "What's the word, Sara?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"The safeword. You remember it, don't you?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"Remind me," he pleaded. He knew fine what it was, but he had to be sure that she knew – that she remembered.

"Toast."

He curled his fingers around her wrists, her wrists were slim enough to almost get one hand around both, he pressed them against the wall, "hurt?" he asked.

She shook her head, and tilted her head, leaned forward and pecked her lips against his as if to reassure him.

Gil took in a deep excited breath, he was terrified and aroused all at once, and somewhat enjoying this mix of emotions. He unbuttoned her pants, and slid the zipped down slow, watching the expression on her face as he did so.

The phone was ringing again, he tried to push all thoughts of it out of his head as he used his free hand to slide Sara's pants down her hips, they fell to the floor and she stepped out of them, keeping her eyes on his face the whole time.

The answering machine kicked in, he heard his own voice advising to leave a message, and then Catherine's sharp voice.

"Grissom, where the hell are you! You turned off your cell phone, and you're not answering your house phone…you just disappeared! Is this some kind of sick joke!"

Gil ignored the rest of the message as Catherine prattled on angrily. He focused all his attention Sara for that moment, he kissed her hard, perhaps harder than he'd ever kissed her before, and he reached between her legs to stroke her over the satin underwear that matched that marvelous bra he'd also fallen in love with.

Sara moaned into his mouth and he broke the kiss to hear her, shivering with delight at this. She kissed his bare shoulder as he began to work in removing her underwear. He could hear her excited breath, feel her excited pulse on his lips as he kissed her neck.

All that was left on her was the bra, and he fought with himself whether to remove it or not, it looked so spectacular on her after all. Knowing it would have taken much longer to remove it one handed, he opted to leave it on. He tugged the right cup to free one breast and he bent down to kiss her there as he worked one handed at removing his own pants whilst he clumsily kicked off his shoes.

Sara moaned again as his tongue caressed her already hardened nipple, and she squirmed, as if she was trying to break free. Instinctively, Gil pressed her wrists harder to the wall to restrain her better, hoping to god he wasn't leaving any bruises in his fervor.

Sara gasped, "that's it…"

He kicked off his pants, wasn't able to do much about the shirt – which was still dangling from his elbows – unless he let go, and right now, that didn't necessary.

Sara let her head rest back against the wall, her eyes remained closed, her chest rising and falling fast in excitement.

Gil slid his fingers between her legs, pulling her nipple into his mouth and rolling his tongue against it, she squirmed more and it was driving him absolutely crazy with desire when she did so.

Sara moaned his name and a string of swear words, which normally under any other circumstances might have been a turn off, but somehow, only added to Gil's arousal all the more until he was so hard it hurt.

He couldn't wait any longer, he hitched her leg up onto his hip and he moved up to kiss her mouth again. He tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth, listened to her growl of frustration as he stopped touching her. He led himself to her, shifted and thrust up into her.

"Oh god…" she moaned, shuddering in ecstasy as he began to move against her, Gil could tell from her body language that she was already on the brink.

He found it amusing that being pinned seemed to stoke her more than making love in the bedroom did. He filed this knowledge away in his head for later use.

Sara cried out, "harder," much to his surprise, and he complied, desperately trying to fight the build up that would lead to his own climax. He hitched her up slightly higher, he felt her rise as she hooked her foot up onto a nearby end table so that she was completely elevated and pressed up against the wall.

"Harder," she moaned out again, the fingers on her pinned hands twitched and curled, her moans were louder, unbelievably loud, and Gil knew he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. He forced himself harder, praying somewhere in the back of his now savage mind that he wasn't hurting her.

She came around him, the tiny vice like grips of her orgasm was what finished him off. "Oh fuck…" he whispered, his whole body tensed to the point every muscle felt a taut pain and then the release of the pleasure came, and his body relaxed against her.

Sara then gave a loud gasp, "oh my god!"

Gil blinked and looked at her, her eyes were gazing across his shoulder, she looked absolutely horrified.

Gil braced himself, still remaining joined with Sara, he looked over his shoulder to see Warrick Brown and Catherine Willows standing with awestruck – or was it horrorstruck? - expressions on their faces to see Gil Grissom standing wearing nothing but a shirt and Sara pinned to the wall in nothing but a bra.

_Oh, shit._

* * *

_Sorry, I couldn't help but not write this, the thought of Cath and Warrick just walking in on Grissom having mad sex with Sara against a wall just cracked me up. And we already know Catherine would walk into his house without being invited, so it seemed to fit, haha._

_I'm giggling like mad, ah, I should really get more sleep._

_I know this chapter is late, I've also been working on something else which is at the moment in the process of being beta-d and creatively overhauled by the lovely Wishing on the Moon, ;)_

_Thanks to the people who keep reviewing! You continue to make my day every day! (mentions coming in 82)_


	82. Chapter 82: Caught in the Act

**Chapter 82**

**Caught in the Act**

* * *

****

It took several seconds before the horror finally sunk in that Catherine and Warrick had been standing there for a moment or so watching Gil and Sara making passionate love against the wall.

Gil dropped his hands instantly, letting go of Sara. He almost spun around until he realised this would only expose himself to both of his colleagues, and right now, he was particularly convinced he'd already exposed enough. He dreaded to think what they could already see from where they were standing.

"Jesus Christ, Cath!" Gil cried out.

"Wow. Caught with your pants down," Catherine uttered. "Or more like caught with your pants off…" she whistled. "I just never thought I'd see the day…"

"Turn away!"

"Geez, I always thought you had to be an animal under that calm exterior," Catherine gave a wry grin.

"Turn away!" he repeated, yelling it even louder this time, growing more and more furious by the minute.

Catherine grabbed Warrick's arm and they turned together to face the opposite direction to give the two lovers a chance to pull their clothes on. "God, calm down, okay?"

"Calm down! You just let yourself into my house!" Gil called out to Catherine, he grabbed his pants and awkwardly pulled them on without taking the time to search where his underwear had disappeared to, "don't you even think about leaving, Catherine, I'm not done with you."

"Apparently you're done with Sara, though," Catherine remarked, and she and Warrick shared an embarrassed chortle.

Sara pulled her top on quickly and slipped her pants on, her cheeks were a furious crimson, her eyes squinted in anger.

Gil clenched his fists, "what gives you the right to just walk in here whenever you feel like it!" he demanded of Catherine, moving towards her.

"Look I didn't know that you guys were having wild sex against the wall – I thought you guys had just high tailed it as a joke!" Catherine responded, "if you'd answered your damn phone or listened to your messages you'd have heard me say I was coming over!"

"Then you should have knocked on the damn door!" Gil yelled at her.

"I did, and it came open – you didn't even close it right…"

Gil remembered distinctly Sara closing the door, he turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow.

Sara's cheeks flushed an even brighter red if that was possible, "uh…oops?"

Gil put his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes, hoping to god that maybe when he took his hand away again, everyone – except perhaps maybe Sara - had simply disappeared. However, when he opened his eyes after taking his hand away, they were all still there, Warrick seemed a little traumatized.

"How am I ever gonna look either of you in the face at work again?" Warrick asked.

Gil might have laughed if he weren't so humiliated, it was the first time he'd ever been ever been caught in the act.

"I think I might need therapy, now," Warrick sighed, but gave a slight smirk as he averted his eyes.

"I think I'M the one who's going to need therapy," Sara uttered angrily, she picked up her panties from the floor and stuffed them quickly into her pocket before either Warrick or Catherine could see.

Catherine tried to smile brightly, "perhaps we can all get a group rate."

"It's not even funny, Cath!" Gil said, his cheeks growing hotter by the second. "God, how long have you two been standing there, anyway?"

"Long enough to see the finale," Catherine mused, she looked away and pursed her lips together to keep from laughing.

"It's not funny!" Gil cried.

Warrick didn't dare look at either Sara or Gil, he too had the look of laughter playing around his face, and he seemed to be fighting it.

"Oh come on," Catherine responded, "from where I'm standing it's definitely funny," she folded her arms, "But anyway, it's your own damn fault," she decided, she raised an eyebrow as if to challenge him on the subject.

"How is it my fault?" Gil frowned.

"You left us at the bar – didn't even bother telling us you were going," Catherine pointed out. "If you'd said you guys were heading off early to have mad kinky sex against the wall we'd have understood."

"It wasn't mad kinky sex," Gil uttered.

"Oh please," Catherine smirked, "you're talking to an expert here."

Warrick glanced momentarily at Catherine out of the corners of his eyes and then looked away shaking his head ever so slightly

Gil glanced towards Sara from the corners of his eyes. Sara seemed to be having trouble looking at anyone face to face right now. He'd never seen her face so red, he could practically feel the heat radiating from her from where he stood.

"So anyway," Catherine began, "now that me and Warrick are here, shall we all just get together and have a foursome?" she asked.

Gil's mouth dropped open, and for a moment the colour drained from Sara's cheeks completely.

"I'm kidding," Catherine grinned, "Lighten up, you two. So you got caught. Big deal. People get caught having sex all the time. Some people do it TO get caught," she added with a hint of mischief in her voice.

"We weren't doing it to get caught," Gil sighed, he stood awkwardly shifting from foot to foot.

Sara stood with her arms folded insecurely, still looking away from everyone.

"I have that bra in hot pink," Catherine said to Sara as if she thought it might be an ice breaker.

"Cath…" Warrick mumbled, "I think we should, uh…go."

"Why couldn't you have just stayed at the bar and pretended it was a date!" Gil burst, he shook his head in disgrace at both of them.

"Sorry man. But hey, you shouldn't have put me in that position," Warrick retorted, "that was uncool."

"How long did it take you to figure out it was a set up?" Gil asked tiredly. He wished he could curl right into bed and hide under the covers for an eternity. He wanted Catherine and Warrick to go away and never mention this night again.

"About two minutes after you left the table. Cath was acting weird – then I figured she knew," Warrick gestured to Catherine.

"Couldn't keep it a secret forever," Gil shrugged, "You two should go out…" he suggested, pointing to the door with his eyes. "Night is still young…" he added.

Catherine raised an eyebrow.

Gil looked at her pleadingly, he wanted her out of his house, but now he couldn't find the energy or the anger to demand her to go.

"Fine…fine…c'mon, Warrick…lets...go find something to do," Catherine made her way to the front door.

"Like?" Warrick asked.

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Catherine said with a sigh, "leave the two science geeks to have mad sex in privacy," she added, and then she and Warrick were gone.

There was a click of the door shutting. Gil made his way to the door, pushed it just to make sure it had properly closed, he locked it with a sigh, and made his way back to Sara who was standing with her arms still folded insecurely, her head low.

"That was…embarrassing," Gil admitted.

"It's okay for you," Sara muttered, "they only saw your ass. I was the one pinned against the wall with one boob hanging out of my bra," she uttered.

Gil had to purse his lips to keep from laughing. As humiliating as it had been, he was already beginning to see the funny side of it. "Can you imagine if we were doing anything more embarrassing?"

"More embarrassing than sex against the wall?" Sara asked, "such as?"

"I'm sure there are a lot of things, but I don't feel like mentioning them all right at this moment in time though," Gil replied. "Point is, it could have been a lot worse…"

"I suppose…" Sara gave a sigh, "god, they totally ruined the moment though, didn't they?"

"Indeed," Gil noted his boxers had been accidentally kicked under the end table and he bent down to pick them up.

"I thought I had closed the door properly…" Sara admitted.

"I know…look, it's not your fault, not totally, it's happened to me before – I mean having shut the door and not having done it properly. That's how Catherine has managed to walk in here so many times without having needed to knock," he shook his head at himself, "I really should invest in some new automatic locks…"

"Maybe," Sara sat on the arm of the couch.

Gil scratched the back of his neck, "Sara…"

"Hmmm?"  
"Did I hurt you?"

"Don't start that again," Sara rolled her eyes at him but smiled.

"Please, just answer."

"No, you didn't. The opposite, actually."

"Sorry, it was just…the whole thing was…pretty…uh…intense," Gil admitted after a moment.

"But in a good way. You know…Cath was right, you are an animal under that calm exterior," Sara smirked.

Gil blushed crimson once again, "I didn't think I had it in me."

"I always did," Sara smirked. "So…what do you wanna do now?"

"I think we'd be best settling down to watch a movie," he grinned.

"Works for me."

* * *

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I think that's everyone (hopefully!).


	83. Chapter 83: Oh, Baby

**Chapter 83**

**Oh, Baby**

* * *

"Well, hey there, Tiger," Catherine cheerfully said as she strode into Gil's office that next again night. Gil had his chair turned to the door, he was glancing through a folder he'd pulled out of his file cabinet only moments earlier.

"Not funny," Gil replied coldly to her, knowing she was taking a crack at him for the night before.

"Was funny where I was standing," Catherine mused.

Gil kept his back to her, his cheeks were reddening again, "I'd keep away from Sara for a while if I were you, she's not too happy about the fact that you and Warrick saw what you saw last night…"

"Sara needs to lighten up," Catherine responded.

"Is there something you wanted?" Gil asked casually.

"Look what I have," Catherine answered in a sing song voice.

Gil turned his chair around to see Catherine was holding a baby in her arms, the baby wrapped in a white crocheted blanket. Catherine was grinning from ear to ear.

"Let me guess, you and Warrick skipped the 'dating' part. Decided at your age, why wait? Then jumped right into parenthood?" he asked, putting the folder on his desk.

"This isn't mines," Catherine smirked. "I love Lindsey, don't get me wrong – I won't be squeezing anymore kids out soon – one kid is quite enough."

"So where did you find it?" Gil raised an eyebrow.

"A case me and Nick are working on…" Catherine responded, "Found in a dumpster near a murder scene, would you believe someone could even do that to a baby?"

"I've seen people do worse to children," Gil responded, a tiny ache in his chest, he didn't like to see abandoned or abused children."Shouldn't social services be taking it?" he asked.

"It's a her, Grissom, not an it," Catherine remarked a little coldly.

"Shouldn't social services be taking _her_?" Gil corrected, slowing his speech just a little in an attempt to seem calm. There was something about having a baby in his vicinity that made him feel very tense.

"They're supposed to be showing up but massive caseloads at their side mean it could be four hours before they get here. In the meantime there isn't much we can do but keep her here," Catherine sighed, she rocked the child absently in her arms, she stared down at her and smiled again.

"Catherine, this is a lab, not a daycare centre. We don't have the kind of facilities to take care of a baby."

"You've had us babysit other kids," Catherine pointed out.

"Yeah, kids that can be quite easily amused with a pen and a piece of paper and a can of coke – not a baby that can scream the place down," Gil sighed.

"Grissom, I have to get back out on the field and finish investigating the scene…"

"So what's keeping you?"

"No one will take care of her," Catherine sighed.

"Catherine, it isn't appropriate that we even have her here. If something happens to her, you know we'd be responsible…?"

"Look, she's been examined, we've picked any trace evidence off her, we've even fed her…all we need is for social services to show up and take her. Surely you can keep an eye on her."

"I don't know the first thing about babies, Catherine."

"You used to be one. That's a start," Catherine came over and placed the baby in his arms.

"I repeat, I don't know the first thing about babies."

"Liar. You're telling me all those books you read, you didn't learn anything about children?"

"I, uh…" he tried, at a loss to convince her whatever he knew wasn't necessarily good enough to give him enough confidence to look after this small child.

"I have to go."

"Catherine!" Gil cried after her, gaping.

"Sssh! You'll wake her…" Catherine whispered and ducked out of the office without another word, leaving Gil holding the sleeping baby.

Gil gave a deep sigh and stared down at the child in his arms, and felt completely helpless. For several moments he stared at this tiny wrinkled thing, this baby that looked much like an old man with no teeth and a puff of brown hair. Couldn't have been more than a few weeks old.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Gil raised his eyes to see Sara standing at the door, a folder in her hand, a curious expression on her face.

"It's not a tiny tears doll, if that's what you think," Gil sighed, he stared helplessly down again, unable to move an inch.

"Who's baby is this?" Sara came in, dropped the folder on his desk and leaned over to examine the child.

"We're not sure yet," Gil admitted, "Catherine is working on the case…baby found in a dumpster near the crime scene…Social Services are coming for this little one – but it could be a while," he explained. "Would you like to babysit?" he asked hopefully.

"Ha…ha…ha…." Sara laughed, "Yeah, right," she rolled her eyes, "I have a hit and run case to solve…besides, I'm not good with kids."

"You're better with them than I am…" he looked at her pleadingly.

"Nice try. I don't have time," Sara waved as she headed for the door.

Gil groaned, "please? Sara! I don't know the first thing about kids…"

"You used to be one," Sara responded with a bright grin.

"Catherine said that too – didn't help. Sara!" he called after her, which jolted the sleeping child awake.

Sara winced and rushed out of the room before he could call out to her again.

Gil sighed, the child in his arms was no longer sleeping – in fact, she was now screaming, her tiny toothless mouth open wide.

_It's gonna be a long night,_ he thought.

It took some time for him to eventually quiet the baby down, he paced frantically with the child in his arms, trying to use a soothing voice that didn't seem to be doing any good. The pacing didn't seem to soothe the child – if anything, only made her ill, and soon Gil had a smear of baby vomit complete with the stench of sour milk on his shirt.

_And you wondered why you never wanted to become a father,_ he thought shaking his head at himself in dismay. _God, this is a nightmare, _he thought, the child started to calm down after almost forty minutes of screaming. He was relieved that there was no bad smells indicating he would need to change any diapers, and that the baby – apart from having been slightly sick – was perfectly fine.

He sat for a time in the chair behind his desk, trying to do paperwork with one free arm while holding her with the other. _My god, no wonder single mothers are known to complain so much. I've had this kid for less than an hour and already I feel like my whole life is disrupted._

Gil curiously stared down at the baby girl, so completely tiny, and looking so out of place in his clumsy embrace. Her tiny fingers absently wiggled, and she gave a soft yawn, large blue eyes lazily looking up at him. He could almost imagine her thinking 'who are you and why the hell aren't you singing me to sleep'. He mused at this.

"Sorry, kiddo, I'm not much of a singer," he said to her with a sigh, he put down his pen, unable to concentrate on his work.

_Where the hell are social services? _He asked worriedly, tapping his foot in rhythm on the carpeted floor.

His eyes darted back to her again, she was still staring at him, and for a moment, a very swift moment, she reminded him of something. A vision he'd had frequently during the week leading up to his mothers funeral. It had played itself in his mind often enough, that it almost seemed more of a memory than a vision of something that would never happen. His mother was holding a child in this vision, and the child was his. But that child had a blank face.

This baby, the baby he was holding now, had a face, and for a moment, those blue eyes reflected his own. He shivered at that.

_I can't hold her anymore, this is just getting too strange, even for me…_

With some care, trying to hold the child in one arm securely, he pulled a drawer completely free of his desk, emptied the contents onto the desk, promising he'd clean it up later, and he cushioned the drawer with his jacket, placing the baby in the drawer.

He cleared enough space on his desk to work with, keeping the baby in the drawer on a chair at his side, making sure the drawer was secure enough that it wouldn't fall over, and he began to work as best he could with his piles of paperwork.

"Makeshift crib," came a voice at his door almost half an hour later.

Gil raised his head to see Sara entering his office, "what else could I do? I can't get any work done…"

"Your desk is a mess," Sara pointed out.

"You sure you don't want to babysit?" he asked, his voice more pleading than before.

"No thanks," Sara responded, "just thought I'd stop by and see you on my lunch hour…I take you haven't heard from social services yet, then?"

"No," Gil sighed.

"You…look…upset, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Gil answered, "are you sure you don't want to take her? I really need a break."

"You haven't even had her for that long."

"Long enough," Gil replied.

Sara came over and leaned over the baby, "wow, look at those eyes," she said in wonderment.

"Don't tell me you're going all goo-goo, now too. No pun intended," Gil scrawled his name quickly at the bottom of a report, and pushed it aside.

"I thought you liked babies," Sara glanced over to him.

"I don't dislike them," he confessed, "but I'm not good with them either. Why don't you just hold her for a little bit…maybe you'll get a liking for it and…take her away so I can get some actual work done?"

Sara smirked a little, "babies cry when I hold them."

"Can't imagine why," Gil confessed.

Sara reached down to the cot to pick the baby up.

"Watch her head."

"I know…" Sara looked at him with a knowing smirk, "god, you sounded all paternal there for a moment,"

"Don't even joke about that."

The baby started crying as Sara lifted her into her arms, Sara gave a sigh. "See…kids don't like me…here…you better take her…"

Gil groaned and took the baby from Sara, he stood to pace with the child, hoping it might settle her again.

The phone on his desk began to ring, making the baby cry only louder.

"Answer that, please," Gil sighed.

Sara picked the phone up, replying, "Grissom's office," a moment later, she hung up, "social services just got here. They're at the reception."

Gil smiled with relief, "thank god."

* * *

Yeah, it'd never happen in a million years, I know, I'll get flamed saying the chapter sucked and was unrealistic and that social services would be there right away and whatever, but anyway, I had a dream about this chapter and I just had to write it down. The thought of Grissom being pinned down with this kid he didn't want to take care of was too funny for words (in the dream it was funnier than the chapter).

Anyway, if anyone else thinks the chap sucked, I'll blame it on PMS - having a baaaad case of it right now. Well, anyway,

As usual, thanks to everyone who continues to review - and to the lovely people who recommended me in the "Recommended fanfics" thread at YTDAW. Made my day to see that:) (As per usual, mentions of the reviewers will go in the next chapter). Away to curl up and die with cramps now.

Ash


	84. Chapter 84: Alternate

**Chapter 84**

**Alternate**

* * *

****

Gil rolled over, restless that following morning, trying to relax even in his own bed was becoming an almost impossible task. He felt Sara shift at his back, heard her sigh.

"Will you stop tossing and turning, already?" Sara grumbled tiredly.

"Sorry," Gil apologized, he rolled onto his side, he pulled the pillow over his head and tried to drown everything out, the ticking of the clock on the bedside cabinet, to the sounds of kids playing in the street outside.

No good. Still couldn't sleep.

"Damn it, Grissom," Sara sighed, "stop fidgeting."

Gil realised she was becoming quite agitated, it wasn't often she used his last name anymore unless she was frustrated with him, "sorry…" he apologized again. He rolled over so that he was facing Sara's back, her hair tickled his nose, he moved it away and curled up around her, he felt the t-shirt he'd given her to wear touch his bare chest and he sighed near her ear.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly.

"I can't sleep," he mumbled.

"That's noticeable. What else is wrong?"

"I don't know…" he slid his arms around her and pulled her closer to him.

"Feel like talking?"

"Not really," he admitted.

"You've been acting weird ever since you had that baby in your office," Sara confessed.

_Don't remind me,_ he thought.

"Why ask me if I want to talk if you're going to insist on it anyway?" he asked of her.

Sara rolled over in his arms, facing him, "because when you said 'not really' your voice told me different…"

"Did I really sound paternal?"

"Excuse me?"

"Something you said during the shift…I sounded paternal…did you mean that?" he met her eyes with his and held her gaze for a long silent moment.

"Kind of," Sara shrugged. "I was half joking, but…yeah, I guess you did," she paused as if to think, "yeah, you did."

_I was afraid of that._

"You okay?" Sara asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Tired."

"Know what would help you sleep…?" Sara leaned over and whispered near his ear suggestively, a hint of playfulness in her voice that was only ever reserved for him.

"Not in the mood," he sighed.

"That can be changed," she slid her hand beneath the covers and he caught her just in time to stop her.

"Seriously not in the mood," he reiterated.

Sara made a face and fell back against the pillows, "What mood are you in?"

"Mood to talk," he admitted.

"I'm tired," Sara pouted.

"You started it."

"Fine. So…is this about your family again? The wife and kids thing…them saying you should have settled down by now – that kind of thing?"

"No…surprisingly…it isn't. I hadn't thought about that at all…well…not the rest of my family. My mother, I thought of…but…" he picked up Sara's hand and examined it thoughtfully, then twined his fingers with hers.

"But?"

"It doesn't matter," he sighed, "my mind is just in overdrive, just…ignore it," he kissed her hand. "Go back to sleep."

"Please don't tell me you're getting paternal urges here, Gil," Sara pulled her hand out of his and looked at him worriedly.

"I…"

"You are."

"I don't know if I am or not. All I know is, I felt kind of sad when I had to give the kid back, and I only had her for a little an hour or so."

Sara didn't have much to respond with.

"And I know it's insane, because I'm bad with kids. I just don't get people let alone the miniature versions," he rolled his eyes at himself.

"So…" Sara trailed off, not knowing what to say to this.

"Y'know...originally…I never wanted any of this…" Gil confessed. "Never wanted a long-lasting relationship, never wanted to be getting emotionally involved…never even wanted to think about the future…it's strange how one person in your life can just…change everything suddenly so drastically."

Sara laughed, "you really have changed."

"I've adapted."

"You're adapting a little faster than I am," Sara admitted.

"You have more time on your hands than I do, Sara."

"Huh?"

"You're still in your thirties – I'm almost fifty."

"Ah, so you're saying because you're older, that you have to adapt faster because—?"

"Because it's obvious I'm going to die some day – long before you will."

"Fifteen years between us, Gil, not fifty," Sara shook her head with a slight laugh. "So…is this talk of kids and the marriage proposal your attempt at trying to make up for lost time?" Sara mused.

"No…not exactly."

"Then what?"

"The heart wants what the heart wants, I can't exactly explain it," he confessed, feeling that there really was no way to explain it at this moment in time.

"For the first time, Gil Grissom can't explain away something…must be killing you," Sara yawned.

"Sara…you wanted a future…so what's the hold up here?"

"Excuse me?"

"You wanted a future with me…but…you don't want to marry me and…way you were talking…seems like you don't want kids or anything so…tell me, where are we exactly going in relation to a future?"

"When did I say I didn't want to marry you?" Sara sat up a little.

"When you rejected my proposal…wasn't that the gist of it?" Gil asked.

"Uh…no. I didn't want to accept because I know it was your family instigating the whole thing. You were trying to overcompensate, and it wasn't right."

"That was then. What about now?"

"What about now?" Sara asked.

"If I was asking now?" he asked, looking at her with a glint of hope in his eyes.

"I'd still say no," Sara admitted, she looked regretful about having to admit this, she chewed her lip a moment, lost in thought.

"Ouch," Gil pouted.

"Not because I don't love you…but because, I just don't think either of us are ready for that…we've never even properly lived together."

_She's right_, Gil thought. _We haven't really lived together. How would we know if we were compitible_

"So live with me."

"Huh?"

"Live with me. Move in with me. Park your suitcases under my bed, your clothes in my closet, and your deodorants on my bathroom shelf."

Sara laughed, "my deodorant is already ON your bathroom shelf," she pointed out with an impish grin.

"Okay, that's one less thing to work on then," he sat up, propping himself on his hands. "How about it?"

"How about what?"

"Moving in together, for real?" he asked.

"Isn't it a little soon?" Sara asked, she tucked her hair behind her ear, she stared at him, there was a look of disbelief on her face.

"Not for me. This relationship has been going on for five years, Sara. Okay, so technically, it's only been an intimate romantic relationship for over three months, but still…we've been somewhat involved for a long time."

"True…" Sara seemed to be thinking this over, "But y'know, this is your place. It's…all you. I don't think I could move in here, my stuff wouldn't look right here. Besides, I kind of like my apartment as well…" she confessed. "I don't like the idea of giving up my apartment, it's a great place."

He paused, "okay, so…we could alternate?"

"Alternate?" Sara asked.

"Spend three days here, three days at your apartment, and have one night apart?"

"Why one night apart?" Sara asked, raising an eyebrow.

"So we're not completely in each others way twenty-four-seven," he replied. "Right now, average is, what…once or twice a week we share a bed?"

"Roughly," Sara shrugged. "Y'know…it's not a bad idea. Just moving in the essentials into each others places…and doing that…means we'd see each other a lot more…" she nodded.

"Way things are at work, lately, we don't see each other enough," Gil commented.

"I thought you didn't like having people in your house, though?" Sara suddenly asked.

"I didn't…at first…" Gil smirked, "but it's like everything else – takes some getting used to."

"So this is something else you've 'adapted' to," Sara smirked. "Okay…well…I'll get a copy of my apartment key made tomorrow while I'm at work," she leaned over to kiss him softly on the lips.

He slid back down onto his back pulling her with him, he kissed her deeply, quite happy with the new arrangement.

Sara broke the kiss as he slid his hand up the back of the T-shirt she was wearing to bed, "I thought you weren't in the mood?" she reminded.

"Yeah, that was before. This is now."

* * *

Another blah chapter (kristy87 always disagrees, but anyway lol, it's blah and I'm sorry).

Thanks to the following readers for reviewing :)

Mystical Panther, LGraziano, Upright8Finity, lilegyptiangoddess, csi-ds9, Miss Jazz, sarah makinson, Aidrianna, Solaris-Snape, silence89, psychotic chaos, Sarah Bishop, princesspink, csishewolf, piper135, DolphinAnimagus, Tracy, rene, NimrodDuckie, Gossamerwings7, vsky, CrysWimmer, jtbwriter, CSIfreak92, luckyladyinlace, lauren, leddy, Juwist, kristy87,

I think that's everyone...hopefully I didn't forget, so many of you lol.

Big hi to the ytdaw people who read ;)

Ash


	85. Chapter 85: Baby Talk

**Chapter 85**

**Baby Talk**

* * *

****

"So…I spoke with Sara," Catherine admitted during the shift that evening as she stepped into the break room, "she's talking about some alternating thing or something…?"

"Yeah, we're going to live together alternatively," Gil looked up from where he was sitting, he was working on a crossword and eating an apple.

"Which means?"

"Three days my place, three days at her place, and a day apart."

"Ohh," Catherine grabbed a cup of coffee and joined him at the table, "sounds…like a commitment."

"You could call it that," Gil gave a shrug, "lets call it 'baby steps'."

"Baby steps?" Catherine mused, and her eyes twinkled. "Speaking of babies…uh…how'd it go with baby Jane Doe."

"I got puke on my shirt and very little work done," Gil replied, he took a bite out of his apple.

"Judy at reception said you looked all misty eyed when you had to give the baby to social services," Catherine beamed.

"Misty eyed?" Grissom snorted, "The kid threw up on me. I had the smell of sour milk right under my nose, you'd be misty eyed too."

Catherine laughed, "I think you're making it sound worse than it really was," she sipped her coffee, "did you even have to change a diaper?"

"No, although the kid was lying on my jacket while I was doing some paperwork – later I went to put the jacket on and there was the distinct smell of urine on it – I had to take it to be dry-cleaned," he grumbled.

"I'm sure you're more than capable of handling the smell of baby pee and puke, Grissom," Catherine's eyes were still twinkling. "You had to admit, she was cute."

"She looked like a little old balding man with no teeth – like the landlord of the first apartment I ever rented," Gil mused.

"Don't you just love that baby smell?"

"What baby smell?" he asked, "all I smelled was vomit and urine."

"The new baby smell, baby powder and lotion…"

"You don't need a baby to have those smells. I'm sure the drug store down the street is having a sale on those," Gil smirked, "holding the kid must have brought back memories for you though, of when Lindsey was a baby."

"It did," Catherine smirked, "reminded me ofwhy I never wanted any more of them, also."

Gil paused, "can I ask something?"

"Sure," Catherine shrugged.

"Lindsey was an accident, right?"

"She was…a surprise," Catherine corrected.

"Did you want kids before you found out you were pregnant?" he asked nosily.

It was Catherine's turn to pause and think, "I…never really gave it much thought. But there was a baby and there was very little time for thoughts."

"So…you never stopped at all during your relationship with Eddie – before Lindsey was born I mean – and said 'hey…what about kids?'?"

Catherine raised an eyebrow, "these are weird questions, even for you."

"Just curious, is all," Gil shrugged, taking another bite from his apple.

Catherine was smirking a little now, "wait a minute…" she began, "don't tell me you're actually thinking about—"

"I didn't say I was thinking about anything. I'm just curious about it. Nothing wrong with wanting to know more about it is there?"

Catherine folded her arms.

"Okay, maybe I've been thinking about it just a little. I mean, I'll be dead in what, another twenty…twenty-five years?" he shrugged, "what am I leaving behind? Nothing, that's what. What proof is there I actually existed after I die – except from, what, a tiny piece of trace DNA I left in my toothbrush or on my comb," he shrugged. "That'd be it. End of the Grissom line."

"I thought you always wanted to be a ghost," Catherine admitted, "leaving no trace on the planet, just gone one day."

"I used to. But…things change. I've changed."

"You're actually bothered by the thought that you might be the last Grissom in your family?" Catherine asked.

"For all I know, I could be," he admitted.

"What about your father?"

"What about him?"

"You never talked about him," Catherine sipped her coffee.

"Nothing to talk about. He's gone, history," Gil replied tersely.

"And that's it?" Catherine asked.

"I doubt he's even still alive, and if he is, what do I care? He's nothing more than a sperm donor," the coldness in his voice jarred even himself momentarily.

"Sounds like someone is holding a grudge," Catherine whistled.

Gil composed himself, "It's not a grudge, it's a fact of life. He was gone. He played very little part in my life. All I got from him was my name."

Catherine looked at him, "so why do you sound so…pissed off?"

"Look…my parents divorced when I was five, okay? The 'guy' I was supposed to be calling dad just left. I never heard from him again. Never. And my family – that is my mothers family – never stayed in contact with my fathers side of the family. No one ever knew what happened to him and no one ever cared."

Catherine reached over and patted his arm, "no wonder you've never wanted kids – or a relationship for that matter."

"Huh?"

"Well…your parents divorced, maybe you thought if you had a long relationship it'd turn out the same way…and maybe you had a fear of being such a disappointment to a kid just as your own father was to you?" Catherine confessed. "Maybe you're afraid you'd have to walk away too…"

"Oh, believe me, if I was stupid enough to make a baby I'd at least be responsible for it and love it anyway regardless of whether it was ever wanted or not in the first place," he pulled his arm from under her hand.

Catherine's mouth hung open for a moment, she seemed startled at what he was saying, Gil continued, never stopping for breath.

"I might be socially inept, and deficient in a lot of ways…and I make bad decisions, and…sometimes I get more involved in my work than my personal life" he breathed. "I know there's so many reasons WHY I shouldn't be a father…but…if it came to the crunch, I'd still be a damn better father than the asshole I share DNA with," he got up, "excuse me…I have work to do," he said now, rather calmly, and without another word, he left the break room, the door thudding loudly behind him.

Gil calmed down by the time he'd reached the garage to continue with an experiment he'd been working on for a case. He tried to push the conversation with Catherine out of his mind, but it was still lingering there.

Warrick arrived moments later, "Interviewed the suspect, got zilch. Nothing makes any more sense now than it did before."

Gil sighed, it wasn't the news of the case they were both working on which made him feel so thoroughly frustrated.

"Something wrong?"

"No, nothing."

Warrick shrugged, and quietly picked up an apron to wear in helping Gil with the experiment.

Gil had noticed a certain awkwardness with Warrick ever since the night Warrick and Catherine had walked in on he and Sara making love against the wall. _Perhaps he really DOES need therapy,_ Gil mused. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," Warrick replied.

Another moment passed, more uncomfortable silence.

Gil just couldn't bite his tongue any longer.

"You haven't told anyone about what you saw when you and Catherine barged into my house, have you?" Gil tried to sound casual, he wasn't looking at Warrick. He was busying himself with the experiment and trying to be as aloof as possible.

"No…and by the way that was all Catherine…her idea to barge in…not mines," Warrick stated.

"I don't doubt it. I know Catherine is quite capable of anything."

"Man, I knew that. I heard she lumbered you into babysitting…but anyway, that was a cold thing to do – leaving me and Cath at the restaurant. You could have at least warned me."

Gil shrugged, "you're right, I could have. It was an unfair and sneaky thing to do to you and I apologize."

Warrick gave a shrug too.

"So…what now?"

"Huh?" Warrick queried.

"You and Catherine. What now?"

"Taking it slow…seein' what happens," Warrick responded.

Gil gave a chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"Sorry, I was just quietly wondering if the word 'slow' is in Catherine's vocabulary…at least in reference to relationships."

"I guess Cath might seem a little fast to a man who took five years to bag his girl," Warrick retorted, but smirked.

Gil suppressed a smile, he supposed Warrick deserved to get away with that comment, "Alright…I'll give you that one. But just remember…if it weren't for my intervention, that five years could have easily become you pining after Catherine."

Warrick gave a soft laugh. "Nah."

* * *

Another blah chapter courtesy of Ash.

Thanks to everyone for the awesome reviews so far...and for putting me in the recommended fics thread at YTDAW again, that's so sweet :)

I'll mention reviewer names in the next chapter, as per usual.


	86. Chapter 86: Andrew

**Chapter 86**

**Andrew**

* * *

****

For the next few days, life seemed uneventful, peaceful and calm, that was up until midway through a shift on a Friday night, Gil had been on his way to his office when a commotion caught his attention – there seemed to be a guy at the cause of it all.

The guy looked like he didn't belong anywhere. Jacket that looked as if it hadn't been washed in a good long while, boots caked with mud, jeans dusty and torn at the knee. Collar of his t-shirt was loose and torn, and the baseball cap the guy was wearing had a white stain from months of dried in sweat.

Gil could already see the distress in the secretary Judy's face, she was standing behind the reception desk and struggling to explain something to him to which he was unwilling to listen.

"I'm afraid I can't give that information out, sir," Judy was saying, her voice was slight, but high.

Gil was poised at his door, watching the scene play out. Somehow it registered in the back of his mind he should perhaps intervene, but felt himself glued to the spot, observing.

"I need to see her, she's gotta be here somewhere."

"As if I've already explained, sir, she's not in the building."

"Call her, she must have a cell phone, everyone has a cell phone. And tell her it's urgent. I can't wait here all day."

"I'm afraid I can't do that without her supervisor's consent," Judy admitted, she was standing behind the counter.

_How did this guy get this far into the building anyway without a visitor's pass?_ Gil had to ask himself, he momentarily forgot what he'd been doing, the case he'd been working on, and made his way over.

"Mr. Grissom," Judy seemed relieved, "this gentleman is looking for Sara Sidle."

Gil looked at the younger man with a critical eye. He had large green shifty eyes, tufts of bleached blonde hair peaked out from beneath the baseball cap. He looked tired, and grimy, and he obviously hadn't cleaned his fingernails in weeks.

"I'm afraid Sara isn't here right now," Gil spoke up. _Who is this guy, and what does he want with Sara?_ Gil felt a strange protectiveness over Sara. Was this some ex-boyfriend? Or perhaps someone she'd once helped convict?

"I need to get in touch with her right away," the guy retorted, his tone suggested this was a demand more than a request.

"Out of the question," Gil responded, he tried to sound firm, but polite. "If you leave a message with Judy here, she'll make sure Sara gets it."

"I need to see her NOW," the guy growled.

"I'm afraid we can't accommodate you," Gil changed his tone, trying to sound a little more intimidating than usual.

"Who the fuck are you anyway?" the guy asked, he made no attempt to curb his language. Gil already felt himself at the end of his tether.

"I'm Gil Grissom – Sara's supervisor," he growled. _Why am I answering to this guy? Who the hell is he to demand I tell him who I am?_ "Sara is out on the field at the moment, and I'm afraid she won't be back for some time."

"Call her. You're her 'supervisor', you have 'authorisation'."

"Who are you?" Gil asked suddenly. No visitors past, he'd never seen the guy before in this building. He looked like a down and out.

"None of your business," the guy uttered, "get me Sara, on the phone now."

"Judy, call security…" Gil turned to Judy, "have him removed from the building."

"You fucking—" the young guy began, and took an intimidating step towards Gil.

"Andrew!" came a familiar harsh yell.

Gil snapped his head to the side to see Sara jogging down the hall, she looked thoroughly annoyed.

"Judy…don't call security," Sara stated.

"You know this guy?" Gil asked, drawing his breath.

"Yes…I _know_ him," Sara sounded incensed.

"This isn't a good time, Andrew. I'm at work," Sara pointed out.

"Sara…" Gil began, he put his hand on her shoulder, hoping to calm her down, she seemed rather outraged and he didn't want to see her lose her temper at work – it would give Ecklie more than a reason to fire her.

She shook his hand off, "don't," she warned him, and Gil felt slightly affronted that she'd turned him away.

"I need—" Andrew began.

"I don't care what you need, you don't come to my place of work and start causing havoc!" Sara yelled.

"Sara…" Gil leaned to mumble in her ear, "this needs to end right now…this is a place of business…"

Sara stepped away from Gil, which disturbed Gil even more. "I know, God…"

_What's going on? Why is she taking her anger out on me?_ Gil thought in dismay.

"Andrew…I can't talk right now. I'll catch you later. I get off at six. If you meet me outside—" Sara began.

Andrew shook his head, "no, it can't wait that long, Sara…I need cash…"

"Andrew, not here!" Sara hissed.

"It can't wait!" Andrew said urgently, "I need it…up front. Like…right now…ASAP..."

"Not here…" Sara said through gritted teeth, "Grissom, can I use your office?"

"Sara…" Gil began, but before he could get out anything else, Sara had grabbed the guy by the jacket sleeve and led him to the office, the door shut behind them both.

Judy gave Gil a questioning look. "Should…I still call for security, sir?"

"No…don't call security," Gil replied hoarsly. He glanced at his watch. He had needed to get a file from his office, and it looked like he didn't have the opportunity anymore. For the moment, it seemed like his office had been confiscated. He felt completely insulted by the way Sara had completely pushed him away from the situation altogether and hadn't even waited for his confirmation that she could use his office before barging past.

_It's not like her,_ he thought.

Judy gave a shrug, the phone began to ring and she picked it up to answer. Gil moved away from the reception desk, sighing.

"What was all that about?"

Gil turned to see Greg at his side, Greg had a large pile of books in his arms, looked as if they all belonged in the DNA lab. Apparently, Greg had witnessed the whole thing as well. "I don't know."

"That guy was insane, man. Who is he?"

"Andrew, apparently," Gil remarked.

"Who's Andrew?"

"Friend, maybe?" Gil suggested.

"Ooh, ex-boyfriend, possibly," Greg put in.

"No," Gil replied. He didn't want to believe Sara would have had anything to do with the guy in her romantic past, although it was clear from the fact she knew his name and that she wasn't afraid to show her anger with him, that this was someone she knew well.

"Shouldn't you be in the office with them?"

"Apparently it's a private matter…and apparently, has nothing to do with me…" Gil uttered.

"But you're her Bo—" Greg began, and then seemed to remember himself, and left off with, "Boss…"

Without giving any reply, Gil left the area completely, leaving Greg standing with a pile of books in his arms, watching him leave.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Gil found refuge to do some work in the break room while Sara was using his office. He was half way through reading a report of Nick's when Sara came in, closing the door.

"I'm sorry about that mess in the hall," Sara said firmly. There was something in her voice that seemed to imply she was perturbed. There was still a glint of anger hidden in those dark eyes of hers. Gil knew how to look for it, spotted it instantly.

"It's fine," Gil replied quietly, although he wasn't sure why he felt he had to act so indifferent to her. Perhaps it was because of the way she'd acted towards him out in the hall, he wasn't sure.

"No, it's not," Sara sighed.

"Okay, fine, it's not," Gil put down the piece of paper he'd been reading. "How did he get in here, Sara? Two security guards at the main entrance, and he walked right by them looking like he just climbed out of the gutter. No visitors pass, nothing."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"He started a commotion – Judy felt threatened. We really should have called security and had him hauled out of here, Sara. If Ecklie had been here, you could have lost your job over having a personal argument's with your friends in the hallway in front of several members of staff…"

"He happens to be my brother."

Gil raised his eyes to Sara, taken aback. Of course, now he remembered, she'd only mentioned her brother once before. "You don't hold much resemblance to each other," he found himself remarking almost coldly.

"He looks like my father," Sara remarked quietly, she came across to the table, "It won't happen again. If you need to discipline me over it, just do it and get it over with."

"I'm not going to discipline you. Was obvious when you saw him that you hadn't expected him to show up anymore than I had…what did he need the money for?"

"Uh…what money?"

"He said he needed cash up front," Gil pointed out, "I was standing right there, Sara, I heard him."

"Doesn't matter…" Sara shrugged.

"Sure it does. Did you give him it?"

Sara shook her head, "that's…none of your concern."

"Isn't it?" he asked. Somehow, he felt it was. _Andrew shows up, incensed over the fact he can't see her – needs money urgently, intimidates staff…tries to intimidate me…sure it's my business,_ he thought.

"Look…" Sara hissed, "Just because you're…banging me…doesn't mean that I have to answer to you for every single little thing I do – who I give money or don't give money to is none of your bus—"

Sara stopped abruptly when Greg stepped into the break room with a coffee cup in his hand, he looked at them both, noting the strained faces on both of them.

"Am…I interrupting?" Greg asked.

"Yes," Gil replied.

"No," Sara muttered, "I was just leaving. I have a suspect to interrogate."

Gil watched her dart out without another word.

"Is it just my imagination…or is she mad?" Greg asked. "What's she mad over? What happened? Is this about that guy?"

Gil sighed, "go back to work, Greg."

* * *

Probably a bit OOC and I'll probably get the OOC police all over my ass for this chapter anyway.

As for Sara's brother, it's been mentioned in various places she has one, although I don't remember a name ever being mentioned so I had to just throw in Andrew (first name I thought of).

Thanks to the following people for reviewing :)

Almeida's-Angel24, princesspink, cdmarcus, Aidrianna, Mystical Panther, Leddy, CSIfreak92, jtbwriter, silence89, lilegyptiangoddess, LGraziano, esther, lauren, psychotic chaos, Upright8Infinity, csi-ds9, kristy87, CSICubsFan,

Do you realise that I've had over 700 reviews in around a 2 month period? That's huge. That's more than huge, it's enormous! Thank you so much for continuing to review, it means so much to me :)

(As in reference to the "mines/mine" thing someone mentioned. I can't stop it. I'm a British (technically Scottish) subject, and this is just something that's a habit out of the way we speak here. I can't get out of it, and even when I look for it I don't always notice it. It won't appear in any other stories other than this though, because I have a wonderful Beta who looks out for such things - I just won't have her beta for this story because it'd be SO unfair to ask ANYONE to do something like that for 86 chapters).


	87. Chapter 87: Oh, Brother

**Chapter 87**

**Oh, Brother**

* * *

****

Gil spent much of the rest of the shift rehearsing in his head what he would say to Sara if he should happen to get the chance to be alone with her alone again during the night. Of course, there was no such luck. So many cases poured in that his whole team found themselves busy, and even he had to go out on the field himself.

By the time he'd returned the shift had ended, and Sara was long gone. From work, he called her cell phone and got her voice mail service. He called her home phone and got the answering machine. With a heavy sigh, he left messages with both, nothing more than a request she call him. He'd had trouble hiding the concern and hurt in his voice.

Right now, Sara seemed to be avoiding him. If she needed space, that was fine. Obviously family problems were more important. He understood that.

Even after four hours, the sting of her words had not eased away any, and the hurt bubbled in him, left him with a bitter anger that made him slam the receiver of his office phone down after he left a message on her answering machine.

_Maybe I was out of line asking her if she gave him money or not,_ he decided as he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. _But…I don't get why she acted so defensive…she's never been like that before…what's it about her brother that got her all hostile?_

The moment he'd gotten to his car he'd already made the decision to go over to her apartment. She could avoid his phone calls all she liked but she couldn't hide in her apartment from him forever – if that's what she was doing. He could stand at her door for as long as it took to get an answer.

When he did arrive at her door, he could already hear yelling from inside, he paused at the door trying to hear, but the voices were too distant, probably at the other side of the living room inside, too muffled through the thick door for him to make them out.

_Sounds like the argument she was having with her brother at work has continued here,_ he thought with a sigh, he clenched his fist and knocked hard. The yelling voices stopped, and there was a long quiet pause.

The door swung open, Andrew Sidle stood there, staring at Gil with those intense green eyes, lip curling into a grimace.

"I'm here to see Sara," Gil said at once, trying not to let himself feel intimidated, but there was something unsettling and unbalanced in those eyes he'd see a thousand times. He didn't like it. He didn't like that this guy was related to Sara either. _They share DNA, but that's about it_, Gil decided.

"She's busy," Andrew remarked.

"It's important," Gil snapped.

"Sara…your 'supervisor' is here," Andrew looked over his shoulder.

Gil caught the way he said 'supervisor'. It seemed to already suggest Andrew might have figured out by now his relationship with Sara. Either that or she'd told him straight.

Sara came to the door as Andrew left it, she spoke low, trying to remain calm, "what are you doing here?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"I…came to apologise…" he reached out and took her hand and led her out into the hallway outside her apartment, pulling the door closed so they'd be out of earshot. He led her down to the end of the hall just to be safe. When they were definitely out of the way of prying ears, he began to speak. "You were right…just because we're…together…doesn't mean you have to answer to me…"

Sara looked down, "I didn't mean to say it the way I said it."  
"I figured," Gil admitted, then looked away. Sting was still there, nagging at him. He couldn't bite his words back, he had to tell her. "Your words still hurt me…I mean…when has this relationship EVER been about sex? We waited a good long time before taking it to that level, Sara. If this was about sex, I'd have never waited as long as I did…and…" he sighed, frustrated, he couldn't finish, "sorry. It just hurts is all. Wounded my soul more than I expected it would."

Sara looked up, she reached out to touch his face, "Baby, I'm sorry," she said tenderly, she ran her thumb over his bearded cheek.

Gil blinked, "baby?" he moved her hand from his face, but clasped it in his hand tightly. The word had simply startled him, because it hadn't been something she'd ever called him before. It was always Gil…sometimes Grissom. Never once had it been 'baby'. He wasn't sure whether he liked it or not.

"Sorry…" Sara shook her head at herself and gave a nervous laugh, "don't know where that came from…"

"Sara…where do we stand right now?"

"In the hallway…?" Sara gestured with her free hand, her other hand still tightly clasped in his.

"No…I mean us. As in our relationship…"

"Why are you asking?" Sara seemed confused.

"You pushed me away at work…"

"You read too much into everything."

"Do you blame me?"

Sara sighed, "What happened at work was NOTHING to do with you or how I feel about you…I was just…stressed. Everyone was watching, my brother showed up at work looking like a bum…" she said under her breath. "And the way you were acting…actions speak louder than words, and...I didn't want anyone getting the wrong – or right – idea."

Gil hesitated wanting to ask about her brother, he didn't want to initiate another argument, especially when it seemed they were just starting to calm down from the first one. "I…" he absently let go of her hand, realizing he'd been crushing it. So many questions were running through his mind. Questions of what the money had been for that her brother had been begging for, why he'd shown up out of the blue.

_No, don't ask, let her be the first to speak._

"My brother is gonna stay with me for a while," Sara said, as if reading his mind.

"Oh," was all he could find to say. What did this mean in regards to their relationship now? Gil supposed this was just another complication he'd have to deal with for the time being.

Sara shoved both hands in the pockets of her pants.

"For how long?" Gil asked softly.

"I'm not sure yet. As long as it takes for him to…get himself together."

"So…" Gil began, having to sigh, "does…this mean living together alternately for now is…out of the question?"

"Yes," Sara replied, "but it's just for now. Believe me, there's no way I'm living with my brother for the rest of my life," she gave a little laugh.

"Always one obstacle after another with us, isn't it?" Gil sighed.

"Come on…it's just for a while, just until he gets himself together. Could be a week, maybe two at the most…"

"Fine…as long as I have no choice in the matter," he looked at her intensely. "And as long as this isn't just…an excuse to back out of taking the next step."

Sara smiled a little, "no…it's not. I'm looking forward to living with you…looking forward to fighting over who gets the first shower, or who's turn it is to do laundry," she teased.

Her smile lightened his heart very slightly, but there was still a strange apprehension lingering, "so…what about your brother?"

"What about him?"

Gil lowered his head a little, "He…doesn't seem to like me much."

"He knows who you are."

"About us being in a relationship?"

"No, about me having spent fifteen years of my life being in love with you…moved all the way to Vegas just to be with you."

Gil raised an eyebrow, "how'd he know?"

"I talk to him."

"Way you acted at work, seemed like you hadn't seen him in a while," Gil confessed.

"Not in five years," Sara confessed.

_Ah. Five years. It's somewhat starting to make sense now, isn't it? _He thought. "Not since you left San Francisco."

"Yes. We used to share an apartment together before I left. Then I left – it wasn't on good terms either."

"Did…you two fight…about me, I mean?" the question sounded strange on his tongue, and he made a face at the bitter taste it left.

Sara winced, "yes. He thought I was being stupid."

"About me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I was dropping everything just for you…giving up my whole life…" she explained, "He thought you'd hurt me. Break my heart. We got into this huge fight night I left…he said 'don't come running to me when he fucks you and ditches you like a piece of trash. Remember, in Vegas, it doesn't count'. I got mad, I walked out. Came here…never went back. We…spoke briefly on the phone maybe four times…last time was a year and a half ago."

"So…he doesn't know that me and you are…" he kept his voice low. "Involved."

"No. As far as he knows, things are the way they were – me doing all the running, and you pretending like there was nothing there."

"I wasn't pretending. I didn't know what to do about us then," Gil reminded.

"Whatever, it's all moot now," Sara shrugged.

"Are you going to tell him – about us, I mean?"

"I'll wait a few days," Sara answered, "he's never liked any of the guys I've dated – and because of…your age…and your being my boss…he'll, uh…jump to conclusions."

_No wonder she pushed me away at work_, he thought. He didn't dare ask what conclusions her brother might possibly jump to, he could think of a few of his own.

"I should get back inside," Sara sighed, "before he starts getting suspicious. I'll tell him you were here to give me a verbal warning about what happened at work, that should curb his curiosity for a day or so," she forced a smile.

"Damn it, Sara. We're only going to see each other at work."

"We've done it before, we can do it again. You should go get some sleep, and I'll see you at work tonight."

He didn't like the thought of leaving her to argue more with her brother. Didn't like the look of the guy, didn't like the crazy glint in Andrew's eyes. "Sara…" Gil sighed, "If…anything happens…I mean…if your brother gets mad…if he does anything…you know…to hurt you…I'll be here in a moment, don't think that I wouldn't…uh…" he faltered.

"Kick his ass?"

"Yes."

"Gil, don't try to get all Macho. Besides. I'm MORE than capable of kicking his ass myself."

"I don't doubt it."

* * *

Thanks to the people who keep reviewing...

Big hi to the OOC police, who's (painfully obviously anonymous) post made me do nothing but piss myself laughing for a good hour yesterday morning. Hey, OOC Police, newsflash, I already said it was OOC. But I don't care if it is. But if you're the expert...where is your beautifully written "in character" piece of work? Come on, make my day, show me how it's done if you do it better. In the meantime, I'm enjoying writing fanfic. No one said fanfic had to be "in character". There's no unspoken rule. At least I have the NERVE to admit it is. Hahah. But thanks for making me laugh. You should be a comedian.


	88. Chapter 88: You're the Boss

**Chapter 88**

**You're the Boss**

* * *

"Eight days Eight…miserable…depressing…days."

"Hmm?" Catherine raised her head to hear Gil's complaint, she was bent over on the floor taking a swatch of a carpet at a crime scene.

"Eight days. You know. That's a week and one day."

"Since…?" Catherine asked distractedly, slicing into the carpet.

"Since everything. I haven't seen Sara ALONE in eight days," Gil complained stubbornly.

"Oh. You mean because of her brother…" Catherine replied. She picked the piece of carpet up and bagged it.

Gil sighed dejectedly, he couldn't concentrate on work anymore. It had been building up during his whole relationship, but right now, he felt absolutely ashamed to admit even to himself that he wasn't able to give his full attention to a crime scene anymore. No matter how hard he tried, his mind would filter off to Sara.

"So…you're…what, sexually frustrated after eight days of abstinence?"

"It's not that," Gil replied, "not that I think you need the details of my sex life, but I've gone longer without."

"I figured. You went without a date for over two years. I used to think you'd become celibate," Catherine replied. "So if it's not lack of sex driving you crazy, what is?"

"All our plans have been put on hold. I can't call her…her brother answers the phone…I swear he must sit by that phone day and night. And he starts asking why I'm calling when I do – I have to make up stupid stuff like I needed to know where Sara had put files, stupid stuff…" he made a face. "I haven't seen her outside of work. When I do see her at work we're too busy to even discuss our private lives – not that we really should because we're trying to keep our work relationship and personal relationship separate…"

"Never stopped you before," Catherine teased.

"Anyway, it's driving me crazy. I don't know what to do anymore."

"Does…this Andrew guy know about you?"

"No," Gil replied abruptly, "Apparently he doesn't like me…I think Sara may have painted him a rather elaborate picture of truth on my past behavior that may have poisoned his mind and helped him form a rather unkind opinion of me."

Catherine stood up, "what are you going to do?"

"What can I do?" Gil queried, "Family come first."

"Then all you can do is be patient," Catherine suggested. "Why does she spend so much time with this brother of hers anyway? Every morning after shift he's there at the door to meet her…"

"Maybe they're close," Gil shrugged, trying not to worry too much about it.

"So close that she's never told anyone she had a brother."

"She told me."

Catherine cleared away the items from her field kit, "she talk about him a lot?"

Gil paused, "no. She just told me she had a brother."

"If they were that close she'd have at least told you more about him…" Catherine shrugged.

"Maybe he's lonely…maybe that's why they spend so much time together," Gil reasoned, trying to be open minded about it.

"Well, if that's the case then maybe Sara shouldn't be focusing all her time on him, shouldn't he be getting out there and meeting people?" Catherine asked.

Gil sighed deeply, "maybe."

"Why don't you ask Greg if he'd be interested in showing Andrew around Vegas?" Catherine asked, "I'm sure Greg wouldn't mind…it's his night off after this shift…if he met with Andrew this morning it'd give you some time during the day before the start of the shift to be with Sara."

"Why didn't I think of that?" Gil asked suddenly.

"Because you're too preoccupied to be thinking clearly," Catherine smirked, and nudged him, "Do you think now you have a possible solution that you can maybe focus on the case now?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It took Gil almost until the end of shift before he'd eventually managed to find Sara in one of the layout rooms looking at several photographs all neatly laid out on the table.

"Sara, I've been looking everywhere for you," Gil stepped in and shut the door behind himself.

"I just got back from another crime scene," Sara replied, "big one, took four hours to process. Doc Robbins is performing the autopsy right now, I'm just going over photos until the end of shift."

"What are you doing at the end of shift?"

"Taking my brother to breakfast, probably," Sara raised her eyes to look at him, "Why?"

"Does Andrew have any friends in Vegas?" Gil asked.

"Nope."

"I was thinking, maybe Greg could show him around Vegas…show him all the best hang outs, where the best place to party is no matter what time of day it is…"

Sara paused, "I don't know…Greg and Andrew? It's like oil and water…"

"I'm not saying set them up to be friends for life, I'm just saying that maybe they could hang out for a bit together and let us be alone…" Gil moved over and stood beside her at the table.

Sara chewed her lip as she stared down at the photos, she seemed to be considering it.

"Might be good for Andrew to go out and meet other people – so he doesn't need to rely on spending all his time with you," Gil suggested, trying to sound enthusiastic. "And I'm sure Greg could introduce him to a few people…" Gil added and placed his hand on her shoulder. To the casual onlooker who might look through the glass in the door, there would seem nothing wrong at all with such a touch. To Sara, Gil knew it would mean more. He squeezed her shoulder tenderly, and looked at her hopefully, waiting for her to respond.

_Come on, Sara. What could go wrong? Just for a few hours, just so me and you can be together, and talk and maybe hold hands or...just something. We've spent eight days apart, I'm not in the mood to spend anymore away from you, _Gil thought desperately.

"Fine…fine…" Sara gave in finally, seeing the pleading in his eyes, "I'll ask him when the shift is over – he'll be outside waiting for me…"

"I'll go ask Greg," Gil smirked.

"You haven't asked him yet?"

"No…I was saving it as a surprise."

"What if he doesn't want to hang out with my brother?" Sara pointed out.

"I'll fire him," Gil teased. "I'll have him meet your brother at your apartment around nine…"

"And then?" Sara asked.

"Come over to my place as soon as they've left. I'll make you breakfast," Gil promised, he gave her a wink. The new prospect of seeing Sara for even a short time had lightened his dark mood considerably. He felt as excitable as a child at Christmas, a feeling he hadn't felt for some time.

He left the layout room and went on a search for Greg, finding Greg in the locker room just about to leave as the end of shift had come.

Greg was pulling on his jacket and zipping it up. Gil blocked the door before he could take a further step.

"Got a favour to ask," Gil stated.

Greg looked at him, he knew what kind of favours Gil could ask, past experience had taught him that. "Is this one of your weird experiments?"

"No," Gil leaned against the doorway, folding his arms, "Sara's brother is in Vegas."

"Oh, the crazy guy from the hallway?" Greg asked.

"Yeah. He's got no buddies here."

"So…?"

"How'd you feel about maybe cutting me and Sara…" Gil lowered his voice considerably so no one passing would hear, "some slack, and uh, show this guy around Vegas…the hang out spots, where you go on your days off."

"This isn't a date, is it? This guy isn't gay is he?" Greg asked in concern, "not that I'm homophobic, I just—"

Gil laughed inwardly but kept a straight face, "no, Greg, it's not a date," he interrupted, "it's just an excuse to get Andrew away from Sara so I can see her for the first time in eight days."

"Eight days…man, you must be ho—"

"Missing her," Gil interrupted, "I'm missing her."

Greg laughed a little to himself, "When?"

"This morning. Say…around nine? Keep him occupied for as long as you can?"

"Man, I've had no sleep…" Greg pouted.

"You're young, your body can survive a few extra hours without," Gil assured, "I'd be very grateful."

"Does this mean I'll get a raise?"

"No," Gil replied, "it means…maybe the next time you need a favour, I'll oblige."

"I'd rather have the raise," Greg tried.

"Nice try," Gil smirked, "you going to do it or what?"

"I guess."

"Great. I want you to pick up Andrew at Sara's apartment at 9am sharp. That gives you at least three hours to get some sleep."

Greg sighed, "I don't know what I'm going to show him at 9am on a weekday."

"Everywhere and everything…the best casinos, tourist attractions, you'll think of something…" Gil shrugged.

"I think I deserve the raise."

"How about I promise not to fire you?" Gil asked.

Greg sighed, "if that's all you can offer…"

"For the moment, it is," Gil took out his wallet and began searching for cash, "That…and this," he handed him a wad of bills, without counting. "It's all I have on me."

"A hundred and twenty bucks, you're paying me to take this guy out?" Greg asked, "I'm beginning to feel like a prostitute…"

"I get the feeling Andrew is going to be broke," Gil replied, "Everywhere you go it's likely you'll need money. Just don't tell him that money came from me, and don't tell him it was my idea to set this up."

"Doesn't he know you and Sara are—?"

"No, he doesn't," Gil said, "and Sara plans to keep it that way for now. Be discrete, and don't blow the money in a casino, that's all I ask."

"You don't ask often, but when you do ask, you ask for a lot," Greg teased, "Do I have to pay this back?"

"No..." Gil replied, "go home, get some sleep, and DON'T forget to pick Andrew up at nine."

"You're the boss."

"Yes. I am."

* * *

This chapter may seem a little weird but it's expositioning something for later on ;) As always I know it's OOC. it's hard to stay IC when you're writing with a throbbing headache.

Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, I've had SO many nice reviews about the OOC police thing. Honestly, I still find it so funny, and I still laugh about it.

Thanks to:

CookieK2, lemonish, NimrodDuckie, csids9, Aidrianna, Mystical Panther, jtbwriter, some1lostme, silence89, Upright8Infinity, lilegyptiangoddess, princesspink, sarah makinson, jbr12476, gsrfan817, CSIfreak92, Anti-OOC Police (lol about that name), leddy, kristy87, Almeida's-Angel24, wandaa, and lauren

jbr12476: I know what you mean about the chapter seeming force, it's because it actually started out as something seperate but eventually I felt it wanted to become part of this story instead and it seemed to fit. I don't take offense to the observation though, lol. As for it seeming "vague" there's still some stuff to come later which will better explain it.

lilegyptiangodess: that "ten times better" comment made me blush, lol.

silence89: thanks for the kind words! and about Sara, I feel the same in relation to her family that she might want to drop everything else in her life for a moment to focus on her brother (or else I wouldn't be writing it, lol). Some people say she wouldn't give up on Griss so fast, but if it was important, I think she might. ;)

jtbwriter: You're right, Andrew is a leech. Why is he leeching? Only time will tell ;)

lemonish: I always feel I have Greg a little unbelievable. People say I do Catherine quite believable but not Greg - thanks for saying I have him down quite well ;)

There's so many things I wish I could say to each and everyone of the wonderful people who reviewed and supported me with the whole OOC police thing, but I'm having trouble focusing with a throbbing headache - I need some paracetomol and to lie in the dark for a while so I need to end the authors notes for now. Thank you SO much for all your support and kind words, you are the best.

Big hi to the people at YTDAW (thanks to the people who recommended my fic).


	89. Chapter 89: Knock, Knock

**Chapter 89**

**Knock, Knock**

* * *

"Gil…did you hear that?

"Hmm?"

"I think someone is at your door."

"Ssh…"

"No, someone is at your door. Listen…"

There was a faint knocking sound at the door and Gil had to pause to hear it, the frantic creaking of the bed had drowned it out. She was right, there was definitely someone knocking.

Gil winced, the last thing he wanted to do right now was get out of bed, especially when it had taken all week just to get there with Sara. It had only been five hours since she'd arrived and after talking over several cups of coffee and watching an hour long documentary on the discovery channel, everything had been a blur of kisses, and discarded clothing.

"Ignore it," he murmured near her ear, nuzzling her neck

"It sounds urgent," Sara gave a tiny moan as he began to move against her again, and her expression told him she was caught between curiosity of who was at the front door, and enjoyment with being pinned down on the bed.

"If it's urgent, they'd have called," Gil covered her mouth in short kisses, finding it hard himself now to ignore the insistent knocking at the door. It was getting louder, more desperate.

"Your phone is ringing…" Sara glanced to the floor where she could see Gil's cellular phone jutting out of the pocket of his discarded pants.

"Ignore," he repeated.

"Might be work."

"All the more reason to ignore," Gil gently tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth. The phone was persistently shrill, and along with the knocking at the door it was becoming harder to concentrate on what he was doing. He began to rock harder, hoping the creaking of the bed would further drown out everything.

Sara let out a loud moan of approval, rocking with him. "Oh…OH!"

"Ssh. Whoever's at the door will hear," he let go of one of her wrists and pushed his hand over her mouth.

Her eyes were laughing at him and she lazily stroked his back as he continued with his lovemaking, trying to be oblivious to everything around them.

The cell phone stopped ringing, but now in the living room he could hear the house phone ringing just as loud and persistent.

"_COME TO THE DOOR!"_

Gil immediately stopped what he was doing, he heard the frantic voice of Greg Sanders coming from the phones built in answering machine in the next room. "Greg…" he whispered.

Sara immediately pushed Gil off, "he's supposed to be with Andrew…"

Gil withdrew from Sara at once and grabbed his robe, pulling it on hastily and tying it as he headed for the living room, to the hallway and the front door. He wasn't prepared for what he found.

Greg was standing looking completely distraught. High on his cheek there was a swollen welt. His lip was split and bleeding and he was holding a bloody tissue to his nose.

"Greg…what the—?" Gil asked in complete bewilderment.

"I lost Andrew."

"You…what?" Gil stepped aside and let Greg step in.

"I lost Andrew," Greg repeated sounding caught between angry and frantically upset. He passed by Gil with a sigh.

"What happened?" Gil asked, he saw Sara stepping out of his bedroom wearing one of his button down shirts which fell barely to below the top of her thighs. Gil found himself hoping that Sara was wearing underwear, and also hoped that Greg would be too distraught to notice that it was obvious by the appearance of himself and Sara they'd been caught in the middle of making love.

Sara looked a Greg, her mouth dropping, "Where's Andrew?"

"I lost him," Greg sighed, he dropped into a seat at the kitchen counter, "we were a strip club and he just…he kept knocking back the drinks like they were water…and the more he was drinking, the more miserable and hostile he starting to get…" Greg sighed.

"But you had the money…" Gil pointed out, "You could have cut him off at any time."

Sara suddenly had a guilty look on her face, "I gave him money…before he left…"

Gil turned and looked at her, "you gave him money again?"

"What was I supposed to do, send him out without any cash?" Sara remarked, suddenly quite cold. Her eyes were blazing. "What does it matter if I gave him money again…it's none of your business…"

Gil sighed, he didn't want to get into this argument with her again. "Then what happened, Greg?" he pulled a first aid kit out from a kitchen cupboard and opened the case.

"So he's knocking back these drinks and there was this waitress he hit on…and the waitress's boyfriend happened to be the guy behind the bar," Greg watched what he was doing, and flinched when Gil took a medicinal wipe from the box and reached out to wipe the blood from Greg's chin.

"I know it stings," Gil said.

Greg took the wipe from Gil and patted the blood away from his chin and mouth gingerly, "Anyway, so like, the bar tender is yelling 'hey that's my woman', and the next thing I know Andrew is like trying to start fights, I got in between them trying to stop this punch up and I got hit a couple of times, once by Andrew and twice by the bartender. Bouncer came to throw us both out only Andrew got away before the big guy had a chance to grab him. I got grabbed and tossed out onto the street…" Greg sighed.

"You lost my brother…" Sara said as if suddenly it was just hitting her, "terrific…"

"It wasn't my fault," Greg retorted, "I was trying to stop the fight—" he tried to explain although it seemed Sara had no intentions of letting him do so now.

"You were supposed to keep an eye on him!" Sara shot quickly.

Gil took a firm hold of Sara's shoulder, "Hey, calm down. You heard Greg. He tried to stop the fight. Greg wasn't the one who took off. Andrew was – it's not Greg's fault, Sara."

Sara took a deep breath, "did the bartender call the police?" she asked, staring Greg right in the eyes.

"I don't know, everything happened so fast," Greg explained, "One minute I was trying to pick myself up off the floor in the bar, the next I was flat on my face on the street outside…I tried to call your cell phone, Sara, but…it's off, and you weren't at your apartment. I figured you'd be here…"

Sara took off for the bedroom without another word.

"Greg…wait here," Gil said, "clean yourself up," he added, then headed towards the bedroom. Sara was already getting dressed.

"Where are you going?"

"To find Andrew," Sara pulled on her slacks, she shed Gil's shirt, put her bra on and then slipped into her black t-shirt.

"He could be anywhere," Gil pointed out.

"What do you suggest I do?" she snapped.

"I'd suggest calming down for a start," he responded softly.

"And then?" she frowned.

"Wouldn't it better just going to your apartment and waiting? He's got to go there eventually. You're the only person he knows in Vegas, right? He's living you right now, he has no where else to go."

"You go to my apartment," she uttered, she picked up her bag, reached in, took the keys out and tossed them at him, they hit his stomach and fell to the floor with a loud chink. "I'm going out to look for him."

Gil picked up the keys, he kept his eyes on her all the while. "Sara…I'm sorry. I didn't know this was going to happen when I asked Greg to hang out with him…"

"Save it…" Sara clenched her fists, "I don't have time to stand around and talk about this right now…" she reached into the pocket of her slacks, pulled out her cell phone and switched it on. "Call me if he turns up," she added, there was an iciness in her voice that he wasn't used to hearing.

Sara slipped her shoes on and took off without another word, leaving Gil standing holding the keys to her apartment. Feeling somewhat defeated, he got dressed, pocketed the keys to Sara's apartment, and headed back to the living room. Greg had cleared most of the blood off of his face.

"Grissom…I'm sorry," Greg said, "I didn't know this was gonna cause a huge fight between you and Sara…"

"Sara is just mad because of the situation. She'll calm down…this will blow over. In the meantime, if you want to blame someone, blame me for my damn impatience." Gil sighed, he grabbed his jacket from where he'd slung it earlier on the kitchen counter, and he pulled it on quickly. "It's because of my impatience all of this happened, Greg. I might not be directly responsible for Andrew's behavior, but I was the catalyst for the chain of events…" Gil realised. _"_I'm sorry you got hurt, Greg…" Gil added. He meant it, although he felt he'd never be able to apologise enough to the man.

"You know…the waitress wasn't even that hot," Greg sighed. "Actually…I'm pretty sure it was a man in drag…I guess Andrew was just too drunk to even tell the difference…"

Gil had to smirk slightly despite himself. Trust Greg to play the whole thing off with a joke. "I'm going to Sara's," Gil placed his house keys on the counter, "finish cleaning yourself up, and when you leave lock my door, and put the keys under the fourth rock next to the driveway."

"Will do."

Gil left his house with a growing sense of apprehension.

_What's going to happen once we find Andrew?_

He knew sooner or later he'd find out.

* * *

Okay, so I knwo the chapter is blah and itsucks, and yes, I know that it's been, what, 2 weeks since my last update? Maybe more?

I still went out of my way to write this chapter even though it's my birthday (yeah, I made it to 25 - now what?)and I'm supposed to be giving myself a rest from writing today, lol.

Thanks to everyone who keeps reviewing, and especially thanks to Wishing on the Moon who helped me with this chapter (I was going through a bout of block). Hedi, what would I do without you! lol.

Ash


	90. Chapter 90: I Still Do

**Chapter 90**

**I Still Do**

* * *

Gil wandered aimlessly in and out of the rooms of Sara's apartment not knowing what to do with himself. The place was messier than usual, and he had a feeling most of this was due to Andrew. An ashtray was full of cigarette butts in the living room, and there was ash on the hardwood floor. Sara was just never this messy. Sure, she left clothes lying around, but that was as messy as she seemed to get – with the exception of one particularly stupid drunken morning. This was different. The milk carton was left out on the counter, a half eaten bowl of cornflakes was on the coffee table, the TV remote was on the floor, as was the TV guide, which had a page falling out.

Gil kept himself busy by cleaning up the apartment while Sara was gone. He swept up the ash from the floor, he emptied the ashtray, and anything that seemed out of place, he put back neatly.

_I should be living with her, not her brother,_ Gil despaired as he entered Sara's bedroom. He made the bed, fluffed the pillows, and tidied the dresser. Being there by the dresser, he suddenly remembered Sara telling him she'd emptied a drawer in her dresser for his clothes once he moved for their alternative living arrangement. He'd never even had the chance to put his clothes in it.

He pulled the bottom drawer open, finding a few rather frayed t-shirts inside. Andrew's t-shirts, he realised. Already seemed she'd made Andrew feel right at home and Gil wondered if Andrew was so at home here would he ever want to leave?

With a grumble of defeat, Gil shut the drawer and headed back to the living room. Now that the place was tidy there was nothing much left to do but wander aimlessly.

After ten more minutes, he was still as restless. He took a seat at Sara's desk, and switched on Sara's laptop, waited for the thing to boot. If he couldn't find anything else to do, he could at least keep himself occupied by playing solitaire or freecell.

He decided to check his email first. Opening up internet explorer seemed to gain him several pornography related popups, which he found surprising since Sara was careful about protection against popups and any other unwanted features the internet had to offer.

_Looks like Andrew has been using Sara's computer, _Gil realized. He clicked on the 'history' icon on the icon display at the top of the screen and checked the last few days activity. Several pornography website addresses were listed in the history, Gil went through a few of them to see what kind of graphic material had been viewed on the computer.

_Look at this stuff…Big Naturals, Sapphire Erotica, Barely 18 and Legal…This stuff definitely isn't Sara's kind of thing – not unless she's become so repulsed by seeing me naked that she's decided to go a completely other direction sexually,_ Gil mused as he shut down internet explorer. He decided against checking his hotmail account for now. He went through the main start menu until he found the games and opened up solitaire.

Five games later – one of which he actually won – he wasn't feeling any less restless. He found it hard to concentrate on the game. All he could think about was what Sara would say when she finally found her brother. _Is she still going to be mad at me? _Gil wondered.

He heard the apartment door open and he jumped to his feet, automatically thinking it would be Sara standing there, only he found himself staring at Andrew's crazed green eyes.

Andrew looked as if he'd been hit more times than Greg had. His lip and nose were bloody – the blood new dried and formed a cracked pattern across Andrew's pale skin. It looked like tomorrow Andrew was going to have one hell of a shiner. There was a cut on the side of his head that Gil decided might have come from his attackers ring.

"What are you doing here?" Andrew croaked at once, staring at Gil with a furious burning gaze.

"Sara asked me to sit here and wait in case you showed up…she's out looking for you…." Gil began, and found himself stammering through some of the words.

"She trusts you alone in her apartment?" Andrew snorted, "she must be sleeping with you. I always knew there had to be something going on. She hadn't talked about you all week, and that isn't like her. The way you acted when you came to see her last week said everything…"

Gil frowned a little, he didn't fear Andrew, but there was something about the guy that did make him distinctly nervous. He tried to force his focus off the insinuation Andrew had made. Okay, so, he was sleeping with Sara. But it was more than that, and Sara apparently hadn't even explained any of it to her brother. Gil didn't understand why, but he wasn't about to go into it now when it was obvious the guy seemed to need some medical attention.

"Are you alright? Where've you been? Hey, you're bleeding…we can fix that, Sara has a medical kit somewhere in the kitchen…"

"I'm fine, I don't need you fussing…" Andrew frowned. "If you weren't fucking my sister, you wouldn't even give a shit so spare me the concern. Just get out."

"Uh, let me call Sara and let me know you've turned up…She's worried sick…" Gil had left his cell phone on the coffee table and he reached out to pick it up but Andrew moved and swept it away, hit the floor with a sharp clatter.

"Get out," Andrew said, this time a little more forcefully, and he took a step closer, never taking his eyes away from Gil for even one minute.

"Look, I don't know what your problem is, here," Gil pulled himself together and stared right back at the young man, hoping he'd seem as intimidating now as his employees sometimes found him. "I know you don't like me, but…for you information, the stuff Sara might have told you about me was all in the past. There's always two sides to every story you know… And there's so much she hasn't told you yet…"

"What? About the games you played with her head, about asking her to come all the way here just so you can stop her from having a relationship with any other guy? She ditched a boyfriend there to be with you...really nice guy…would have done anything for her. Married her, had kids…you name it. God, she even gave up her family to be with you and all you've ever done is fuck with her head and use her."

"That's not true," Gil said, "and that's a juvenile insinuation to make. You don't know me, what gives you the right to make judgments?"

"As if you aren't judging me, the way you looked down your nose at me the day I turned up at your precious police department, I thought maybe you'd want to put me in a cell with all the other fuckwit nutjobs you convict on a day to day basis."

Gil stared right at the man, "you were causing havoc in our place of business. It was unacceptable – Sara seemed to think so too," he reminded. "And as for my relationship with Sara, it's not just about sex. Perhaps if you weren't so quick to judge what me and her have together she'd have explained it to you by now."

"If it weren't about sex, don't you think she would have told me by now?" Andrew pointed out coldly, and then laughed."God knows, she's told me about all her other boyfriends. Even that guy Hank."

_Does he honestly think he's going to make me question my relationship with Sara? _Gilt thought.

"If she didn't love me why did she complain about me so much to you before?" Gil snapped back, composed himself again. "For all you know the reason she hasn't told you about our relationship is because she felt foolish having said the things she said at the time."

"You—" Andrew began but Gil quickly cut him off before he had a chance to finish whatever he'd been about to say.

"I'm not here to argue. We both love Sara. You're her brother, I'm the man she loves…" Gil began.

Andrew snorted as if he didn't believe this.

Gil concentrated on ignoring that, "Look, we both play a huge part in her life. Whether we want to or not, we have to get along with each other for her sake. It doesn't matter that you don't like me – if you care for your sister at all, I'm sure you can overlook it."

Andrew rolled his eyes and then looked away, refusing to meet Gil's stare.

Gil couldn't find anything else to say, he had so many questions he wanted to ask and so many inappropriate comments he wanted to say to the man but he held his tongue. He was thankful that right then, this was the moment Sara chose to return home. The apartment door open and she stepped inside.

Sara saw her brother standing there and rushed to him, "where the hell have you been?" she demanded at once, barely even acknowledging Gil there at all.

"Out," Andrew remarked coldly, he looked to the floor.

"You shouldn't have ran off! God, I've been up and down the strip looking for you!" she smacked his bare arm hard enough to leave a reddening mark on his skin, "you asshole!"

"Hey!" Andrew shoved her back.

Gil propelled himself forward and pushed between them, holding Sara by the shoulders as she was about to lunge forward at her brother. "Stop it!" he demanded of both of them, he had one hand against Andrew's chest, and Andrew didn't seem too happy about this.

Sara tried to push past Gil, eyes practically shooting daggers at her brother "you ever shove me again and I swear to god I'll—"

"Sara…" Gil sighed, "calm down. I think your brother has taken enough hits for one night judging by the look of him, don't you think?"

Sara looked at him questioningly, and dropped her anger slightly. Gil looked between them both curiously, feeling rather awkward being caught in the middle. He turned his attention on Andrew.

"And I don't care if you're half my age, and think you're ten times the man I am," Gil frowned, "you shove her again, I'll rip your goddamn arm off and beat you to death with it myself." His own words shocked even Gil, but he felt some pride in the way he stood up to the young man nonetheless, despite the nervous way Andrew made him feel just by standing there with that psychotic look in his eyes.

"Why the hell did you run off and leave Greg there to get thrown out of the bar?" Sara demanded. "Greg took hits for you and you just took off without so much as even a thank you!"

"Never mind what I did," Andrew rubbed his arm, "Why didn't you just tell me you and him were…" Andrew began, paused, then rolled his green eyes, "seeing each other…instead of keeping your damn secrets…"

Sara had no answer, it was her turn to look at the floor now, examining her shoes, "it was none of your business."

"Tell me this is just a fling, Sara, 'cause this guy here thinks that you're all in love with him or something," Andrew cringed.

Sara's eyes finally raised to her brother, "Andrew," she sighed, "I'm not going to lie to you. Me and Gil…we are actually, uh…in love."

"After all you told me he did to you? Called you out here, then ran a mile when you asked him out? Acts cold towards you every time you try to tell him how you felt. And you're telling me this is LOVE?"

"It is love," Sara squinted angrily at him.

Andrew laughed in an insane maniacal way as if he thought this was all some kind of joke, "you're so deluded. A guy who acted that way to you then can't possibly love you. He's using you…"  
"Andrew, you don't even know what's going on here," Sara frowned, "So don't stand there and try to tell me what he may or may not feel for me. If he didn't love me, why did he tell me he does? If he doesn't love me, why are we moving in together? If he doesn't love me, why the hell did he propose to me?"

There was a strange bout of silence, and Andrew looked between Gil and Sara with confusion etched on his half bloody face. "You're…gonna marry this guy?"

"No," Sara said, "for your information, I turned HIM down on the proposal," she said firmly.

"Uh…thanks. I needed reminding of that," Gil put forward feeling the stab of misery from the proposal rejection that seemed now so long ago.

"You know that means nothing," Sara shook her head absently at Gil without looking towards him, "but Andrew, the point is, this thing me and Gil have, it's actually real, whether you want to believe it or not. I know I told you about some of the stuff he did that hurt me in the past. If I can look past that stuff when it was me who endured it all, then you should be able to, too."

"I just don't get WHY you didn't tell me the fucking truth."

"Because you would have acted just the way you're acting now," Sara gestured angrily towards him, "you're being an asshole. For once in my life, I'm finally happy – you hear that? HAPPY."

"Yeah, well if you're so goddamn happy, why the hell are you still drinking?" Andrew shot.

Gil spun around to look at Sara in disbelief. The words _still drinking_ seemed to be like a shard of cold sharp ice that cut through his heart. He faced her and waited to hear her response, but she seemed to have none.

Sara looked as if she was struggling to swallow back more emotion than she could handle. She stared at Gil, speechless, guilt all over her face. She then looked away, and Gil was concerned she might begin to cry, her eyes glassed over, if only momentarily.

"Sara…" Gil said softly.

Sara closed her eyes, and silently counted backwards from ten, mouthing each number. Gil read her lips as she did so, at the same time he had the strange lurching sensation in his stomach as if he were being carried by the momentum of an elevator.

Sara finished counting, recomposed. "Andrew…this whole thing isn't about me, it's about you. Why are you standing there trying to make me feel bad about my choices when you're standing with a bloody nosed and a bruised face from a bar fight? You want to talk about choices? Okay, fine, let's talk about your choices, and all the bad ones you've made. Drugs…bad investments, and I'm not the only person in this family who drowns in a bottle every time something goes wrong!" she cried at him.

Gil kept his eyes on Sara all the while she was speaking, she seemed eerily calm but he was afraid she might crack and lunge at her brother again any moment. And what concerned him more was, he was afraid that Andrew might try to do the same to her.

Andrew seemed to have nothing else to say to Sara, he dropped his cold gaze to the floor. Gil racked his brains for something to say to close the conversation, to end this fight, but nothing came to mind.

"I'm going to Gil's," Sara said coldly to Andrew, "I can't even look at you right now," she uttered, and she headed out the door without even waiting for Gil to follow.

Gil sighed, realizing he had little choice but to follow Sara, and he headed for the door, he heard Andrew's loathing voice at his back.

"And you wanted to marry THAT," Andrew had muttered.

Gil breathed in deeply to control some of the anger that threatened to erupt from him at the tone of Andrew's voice. Gil's final words before he left Sara's apartment were, "I still do."

* * *

Okay, so yeah, it's been a while. I'm working on other fanfic stuff as well at the moment so this is why it's taken so long to get to this chapter, but it's up now (so you can all relax, lol.)

Thanks to everyone for reviewing :)

Reviewers: Belle, Lecter4Life, tinyspark, Aseawen, Niebezpiczny Kziezyc, csi-ds9, ManipJunkie, csmit99, MiraclesFan22, Pookie-The-Wonder-Sheep, silence89, Mystical Panther, Aidrianna, UnspokenLoves, wandaa, Upright8Infinity, leddy, csibugman, jtbwriter, sharon777bear, Mary, kristy87, CSIfreak92, berta101, AmericanGirl, princessklutz04, Trinity Black, lilegyptiangoddess, jbr12476, sarah makinson, psychotic chaos

Hope I didn't forget anyone :) I love you all :) Seeing your comments and hearing what you like about the chapters always makes my day.

Ash


	91. Chapter 91: Baby

**Chapter 91**

**Baby**

* * *

****

Not a single word was spoken between Gil and Sara after they left her apartment and drove to Gil's house. The silence in the car felt thick, and Gil had so many questions burning on his tongue that he wanted to ask but chose to hold his breath until she was ready to talk.

Gil felt little relief in arriving home back to the familiarity of his house. Greg was long since gone, and the only evidence of his presence was the first aid kit lying on the kitchen counter, and faintest smell of expensive cologne.

Sara sighed, and slipped her jacket off, hanging it up on the hooks near the front door. She made her way into the living room and glanced around absently as if she'd never been to the house before. Gil watched her for a few moments, wondering if it was worth breaking the silence.

_She isn't in the mood to talk,_ he decided in the end. He glanced at a clock in the kitchen finding they would barely have three hours sleep before needing to get ready for work. Deciding that little sleep was better than no sleep at all, he headed towards the bedroom, knowing Sara would eventually follow.

_I can't believe she's still drinking. After everything we talked about,_ he despaired as he opened the dresser in his room, took out a clean t-shirt and placed it on the pillow of what had now become Sara's side of the bed. The bed covers were twisted and thrown to the floor after the short period of love making from earlier that afternoon.

Gil made a lousy attempt at fixing the covers, feeling too drained to put in any effort. After making sure the alarm was on, he stripped himself completely naked – the only way he was comfortable sleeping - and slid under the covers with an unhappy sigh. He heard Sara enter the room moments later, but did not turn to say anything. His back remained facing her.

He felt a strange coldness towards her he couldn't explain. As much as he loved her, he felt resentful about her drinking again. It seemed better to try and ignore it and not say anything about it for the moment – especially when they needed to sleep rather than talk.

He listened to Sara's shifting around, and then felt the bed slightly buckling under her weight as she climbed in at his side.

They lay in silence, their backs turned to each for some time, neither one being able to fall asleep. Gil felt the exhaustion tugging at his limbs but his mind was fully alert, and full of questions and concern.

It was strange, going to bed and not being quite on talking terms at the moment. It was strange, they hadn't fought with each other and yet, they could neither find a word to say to each other.

After a while, he heard Sara sigh, and felt the bed shifting as she rolled over onto her side, he felt her breath very slightly against his neck.

"Gil, you awake?" Sara asked softly.

Gil said nothing, he remained still with his eyes closed. He wanted desperately to say 'yes' and 'okay, lets talk', but he kept quiet. There was too much emotion close to the surface right now he was afraid of unleashing. He wasn't sure if his disappointment in her drinking again would turn into anger, and he didn't want to take that risk.

A moment later, he felt her slide closer, her bare legs touching his, her arm sliding over his side. Her lips grazed his neck briefly, he felt her body curl firmly against his naked back, "I know you're not asleep, Gil," she sighed.

_No you don't,_ he thought.

"You snore when you're asleep."

He found it in himself to mumble tiredly, "lies. All lies."

Sara sighed, "I can't sleep with you mad at me like this."

Gil sighed now, "Sara…we have two and a half hours before we have to get up for work."

"So?"

"This can wait. I'm not mad."

_No. I'm disappointed, but not mad,_ he thought unhappily.

Sara fell silent, and after a while, her soft breathing against his neck became regular, and he finally decided she was asleep.

Sleep did not come for Gil however. No matter how hard he tried to clear his mind and only focus on sleeping, his mind remained full of thoughts that kept him awake. After an hour, he realized he was never going to get any sleep today, and so he pulled himself out of bed – slowly, making sure not to wake Sara.

He staggered exhaustedly into the bedroom, turning on the shower, giving the water time to heat up before stepping into the stall. The warm water did very little to wake him up, but he was in no mood for a cold shower. He sighed, leaning against the tiled wall of the shower stall in his bathroom and he sighed softly.

_This shift will be hellish. Driving to work on no sleep is bad, but working in a busy crime lab is even worse. I'm not in my thirties anymore, I can't easily work through cases on no sleep the way I used to._

"Gil?"

He heard Sara's voice echo softly in the bathroom, and he could see the silhouette of her through the frosted glass shower screen.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?" she asked softly.

_Why wouldn't I be? I just found out the woman I love is drinking despite making various promises to me that she'd stop. God, I know it's NOT as simple as I want it to be, but I can't help but feel cheated nonetheless. She's cheating on me with a bottle. _

"Yeah," he ran his fingers absently through his soaked hair. He knew he'd given his feelings away by the emotion in his voice. He heard Sara put the toilet lid down, and saw her silhouette sit down. He watched her through the frosted glass feeling the strange aches of love in his heart.

"Do you want to talk?"

"Eventually," he answered. _Not now though. Pain is too close to the surface, and I don't want to blow up at her. _

A long silence followed, Gil ducked his head under the showerhead and felt some comfort in the water pouring down his face and neck. After a moment, he felt her hands against his bare back, and realized she'd climbed into the shower beside him. He didn't turn to look at her, he remained still.

Sara wrapped her arms around him, her hands pressed on his stomach. She rested her cheek against his left shoulder blade. "I love you so much," she said softly to him, she applied a soft kiss on his shoulder.

Gil swallowed back the emotion from hearing her say this. He wanted to say he loved her too, but the words wouldn't seem to come.

He silently sighed and grazed his fingers across her hands. He couldn't' say anything, he feared saying anything. He closed his eyes, her kisses trailed across his shoulder and up the back of his neck. Gil craned his neck instinctively, for the moment letting her do what she wished while he tried to think of how he was going to get through the next eleven hours.

Her right hand slid down his stomach and past to intimately touch him and he let out a soft breath, his body already betraying him, blood rushing to his middle at her soft caress.

_Don't let her do this again. This is how she changes the subject, this is how she gets me to forget I'm mad or upset with her…_

Despite what his thoughts were trying to tell him, he couldn't pull away. Some part of him didn't want to either, admittedly. He hardened with every soft caress she applied to him until he could finally take no more of her gentle touch. He turned and twisted her around so that she was under the water, he kissed her deeply, almost violently hard, pushing her back so that she was pinned between him and the tiled wall. Sara complied with him and what he wanted from her, she pinned her leg up on his hip.

Gil felt her arms wrap around his neck, felt her hand in his wet hair. He braced one hand on the wall, and used his free hand to caress the tender area between her legs. Her tongue danced crazily with his until they both broke the kiss to catch their breath.

He took a moment to admire the water pouring down between her breasts before he moved his kisses down there, trailing his tongue along to each nipple in turn. Her body quivered in response as his tongue flicked against the hardened nubs, and she made a soft whimpering noise that told him she wanted more.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized he'd have to stop soon for fear of being late for work. _I don't care. I don't really don't give a damn anymore,_ he thought in dismay at himself.

He worked his fingers gently against her, feeling her squirm and rock against his hand, hearing her sigh and moan in that soft honey-coated way she did that always brought him a little closer to the edge of losing all control.

Gil moved up to kiss her mouth again, harder than before. He took hold of himself and guided himself to her, felt her tense as he penetrated, and then felt her relax around him, her moans were stifled by his mouth.

He moved up against her with a frenzied passion. He made love to her harder than he was sure he ever had, a strange anger overtaking his body as he thrust harder, listened to her cries and moans and the sound of water hitting the tiles at their feet.

"Harder…fuck me harder," she whispered in a delicious tone near his ear, and he nearly lost all control. He had to stop momentarily to pull himself together. Once he had himself in check, he started over, he pinned both her hands against the wall in the way that she liked. She looked spectacular pinned there, tendrils of wet hair tickling her shoulders, water pouring down her breasts.

"Harder…" she pleaded, he could tell by the way her body was trembling that she was so very close.

Gil twined his fingers with hers, keeping her hands secure against the wall, rocking his hips faster, harder at her command. "God, Sara," he groaned, he kissed jaw, "I love you…so…so much…"

"I love you too, baby," she sighed happily.

_Baby?_ He wondered, stopping momentarily to look at her. _That's the second time she's called me that…_

"Don't stop…" she gasped, squeezing his fingers with hers even harder than before, she bucked her hips towards his in protest.

"Sorry…" he murmured breathlessly, then after a moment added, "…Baby."

It took less than two minutes to bring her over the edge, he felt her shudder around him, and he thrust into her hard as her pleasure drove him to his. They remained against each other breathless, and spent.

* * *

Sex back by popular demand. Does this keep the people who've requested shower sex scenes happy? I've had quite a few PMs, IMs, Emails and Reviews requesting. This should keep you happy hopefully, lol.

Thanks to the lovely people who continue to review. Ya make my day :)

Ash


	92. Chapter 92: Gil's Story

**Chapter 92**

**Gil's Story**

* * *

****

The shift felt like it would go on forever and it began more and more of a challenge to stay awake when the minutes felt as if they were hours and the hours felt like days.

Gil couldn't deal with his paperwork, sitting behind the desk gave him too much of a temptation to momentarily shut his eyes. He knew if he should close his eyes even for a moment he'd fall asleep.

Despite his efforts, the events from earlier that afternoon replayed over and over in his mind. His disappointment with Sara and to hear of her drinking again still cut him like a knife.

_God, why does this bother me so much?_ He thought sadly, he was in the garage at work searching a car for evidence for a case Nick was working on. Moving around and trying to keep his mind occupied with the task at hand seemed to be the only thing that was keeping him awake.

_You know why this is bothering you, Gil. On some level, you've always known,_ Gil stared at himself in the rear view mirror of the car he was sitting in, he had his hand in the glove compartment, but he hadn't found any evidence so far. Staring into his own eyes, a floodgate of memories came forth, an onslaught he wasn't prepared for. He had to shut his eyes and try to push the thoughts out of his mind.

He forced himself to keep busy until halfway through the shift, the craving for caffeine got bad. He glanced at his watch seeing that – thankfully – it was time for his one hour break, and he headed towards the breakroom.

He found Sara in there already, sitting quietly eating a sandwich. She looked as exhausted as he did.

They said nothing to each other as he entered and made his way over to the percolator. Saying nothing, just as they hadn't after the incident in the shower and on the drive to work. The only time they had spoken to each other throughout the shift had been when he'd handed her an assignment. Despite Sara's effort to 'make up' with him earlier that day, he didn't feel any the less disappointed with her, and somehow still couldn't really look her in the eye.

_Can't ignore her – or this – forever, Gil. Talk to her. _

As he poured his coffee, Sara was the first to speak.

"You want half of this?"

He turned to see she was gesturing to half of an egg and watercress sandwich.

Gil gave a silent sigh, "thanks, but I'm not hungry," he said quietly.

"Oh," Sara replied. He watched her over his shoulder, she took another bite and stared down at the table.

He wanted to walk away and go straight to his office and see if he could deal with the paperwork that continued to mount up no matter how much of it he cleared. Somehow, he couldn't force himself to walk away. He sighed again, and took a seat beside her at the table, placing his coffee cup down in front of him, "do…you want to talk?" he asked softly.

Sara glanced towards the door to make sure it was closed, and yet, her response was uneasy all the same, "I thought you said personal matters shouldn't be discussed at work."

"You know me and breaking rules," he teased, but he couldn't smile no matter how hard he tried to. "So…" he began, "what's going on?"

"Nothing is going on," Sara tucked her hair behind her ear. She picked a piece of watercress from between the slices of bread and put it to her mouth.

Gil propped his elbow on the table and let his cheek rest in his hand. He tried to focus on Sara rather than the exhaustion he could feel trying to drag him under. "Is it true, what your brother said?"

Sara looked away, "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, although the look of guilt that darkened her face said she was lying.

"You're still drinking."

Sara frowned a little and put down her sandwich, she wiped her hands off on a napkin. She made no attempts to explain herself or deny the accusation. Gil wished she had denied it, he wished more than anything that her brother had lied. Sara's lack of response told him that Andrew had been right on the money.

Gil shook his head at her, "god, Sara…we talked this over…we've had this conversation..."

"Yes, you're right, we have. And I don't want to hear it again. I made a mistake, end of story."

"How many mistakes? How many times did you hit the bottle when we weren't together? More than once? Twice?" he looked at her in desperation, "Sara, I need to know."

"I don't know, I wasn't counting, jesus, can we just drop this? I have enough problems as it is. I have my brother mad at me because of you."

"Your brother is mad at you because you lied," Gil shot, "just like you lied to me when you told me you'd seek help. Remember the deal we made? You'd stop drinking, you'd get help, and I'd open up…"

Sara frowned, "and have you opened up?" she retorted coldly.

Gil sucked in a shaky breath, "I can't keep my end of the bargain if you don't keep yours, Sara. That's how this works. You show me I can trust you, and I'll trust you."

"No, Grissom," Sara stood up, "you need to show me I can trust you first."

He stood slowly, "you're saying you don't trust me?"

"I'm saying I don't know you."

"Lets not start this again," he sighed. The exhaustion was settling in more and more now at the prospect of having to repeat a conversation he felt he'd had with Sara far too many times.

"You started this. You brought it up. You want me to get help, tell me what I want to know, give me reasons, Grissom."

"It's Grissom, is it now? What happened to 'baby'?" Gil raised an eyebrow.

"Is that an attempt to change the subject?" Sara shot angrily. Her eyes darkened, and she pursed her lips together tightly.

"No."

"Then tell me something, Grissom. Tell me something I don't know."

Gil hesitated, "I still want to marry you."

Sara sighed and looked away from him, shaking her head in some kind of disgust. She seemed to feel the whole conversation was nothing but a lost cause, and Gil himself was beginning to feel concern it just might be.

"Sara, I want a future with you…" he swallowed, "but if you don't stop drinking, I just can't see it happening. Every time I find out you've been drinking, that image of you and me ten years from now seems to just…float further and further away…" he looked at her sadly.

Sara's eyes glistened for a moment, and he could see his words were starting to sink in and affect her.

_Damn it, stop keeping the cards close to the chest and tell her about it. Tell her what she needs to hear so she'll understand why you feel so strongly about this whole thing,_ he thought at himself.

"Sara…have I told you about my father?"

It seemed to surprise her somewhat, this question. Gil wondered if it had even occurred to Sara that he'd had a father once.

"No…" Sara finally responded, "you've…never really mentioned him at all…" she added, sounding slightly uneasy.

"Okay. Lets talk about my father," Gil sighed, "He was…a complete and utter asshole unworthy of my mother. I was lucky if I saw him three months out of a year. He was always away on business. But let me tell you, the three months a year he was at home, he made our lives a living hell. On the rare occasions when he did come home after a long business trip, sometimes I barely even recognized him."

"Oh…" Sara swallowed.

"And he was an alcoholic, Sara."

Sara blinked, "what?"

"He was an alcoholic," Gil tried to make it sound as if he just didn't care but having to relive the whole thing tore him up inside so much he wasn't sure he wanted to continue telling her what he needed to.

Sara couldn't' say anything, she simply stared at Gil in utter astonishment.

"He'd get drunk, emotionally abuse my mother. He'd destroy furniture in a rage – he never lashed out as us, but I think it wasn't far from crossing that line. I had toy soldiers once, he broke them all with his bare hands. He ripped my books up once when he was mad at me for some dumb reason I don't even remember. He shut me and my mother out of his life for the most part. Locked me in a closet once when I spilled milk on the kitchen floor."

Sara's mouth fell open.

"It's weird how much you remember from your childhood…" Gil sighed. "I remember every stupid thing he did the year that I was five…"

The room felt suddenly very cold, and the only sound was the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of a clock on the wall.

Gil forced himself to continue, "He'd ignore us most of the time when he was sober…barely acknowledged our existence. But when he was drunk…god, the tiniest thing ticked him off…" he stammered the words out, "at age five I remember clearly one day he came home from a business trip completely hammered. Said he couldn't deal with her handicap, said he couldn't connect. I must have been pretty smart then because I can remember every damn thing he said to her…"

Sara dropped down into her chair, looking at him with wide eyes, almost as if she were scared for him.

"He said he couldn't take her eccentricities – and hated that I was becoming like her…" Gil looked to the floor. It was strange how the memories came flooding back after forty-five years of having forced them into the back of his mind where he'd never wanted to think of them again. "So he walked out. Left us both. And I've spent the last forty five years pretending like it never happened."

Sara swallowed, "he abused you both…"

"Only emotionally. I suppose we got out lucky. It could have gotten a lot worse…way worse."

"You hated him."

"With a passion, Sara. I've never hated anyone that much…" he sighed. "And…I saw my mother devastated after he left. She never loved anyone else…and so…she threw herself into her work, and reading, and learning new things…"

Sara swallowed, "and…that's why you do the same…"

Gil shrugged, "I didn't know any better. Who else's example did I have to follow?" he gave a bleak smile.

There was a momentary silence between them.

Gil finally broke that silence when he felt Sara was ready to hear what he had to say, "People transform when they get addicted to alcohol. They change over time…and if you changed, and I lost you…like I lost my father…"

"You'd be devastated?" Sara asked, her voice was trembling.

"I'd kill myself." He sighed. The words sounded so dramatic, but in some strange way even though he hadn't thought it out, he knew the words were true. He nervously reached over and took both her hands, not caring anymore if anyone should walk in at that moment or happen to look through the windows from the hall.

"Don't say that…" Sara blinked, there were tears in her eyes that broke free and trickled down her cheeks, tainted by her mascara.

"It's true," he looked at her, "You just don't get it, do you? I've gone through so many changes this last four months, Sara…" he swallowed back the raw emotion. "I don't think I could go back to being who I was. I don't want to."

Sara sniffled, "I don't understand why you didn't tell me this stuff before..." she sighed, "You had a father who was abusive…emotionally, or otherwise. I would have understood. I'm the one person who would have understood…"

"I never told anyone, Sara. Forty-five years I've been trying to forget and force into the back of my mind, and I'd actually fooled myself into thinking I had forgotten until today…until I found out you'd been drinking again. I had to ask myself why it bothered me…"

"And it all came back to you…" Sara whispered. "Just like…when I'm on a domestic abuse case and…"

"It all comes back to you," Gil nodded, looking down, "and it hurts…" his voice trembled, "your drinking hurts me. It hurts me because you're hurting yourself."

Sara let go of his hands, and took his face in her hands, making sure he'd look right into her eyes when she spoke. "Okay…" Sara sighed. "If it really bothers you this much…" she brushed her thumb against his cheek and he felt something wet under her fingertips. It was then he realized somehow without even having known about it, he'd shed a tear. "If it hurts you…" she gave him a sad smile, "I'll get help. I'll stop. I swear to god, Gil, this time I'll do it."

It wasn't the first time she'd said she'd get help, and he wasn't sure why this time he believed her when she'd already made the promise before and never kept to it. And yet, something in her voice, something in her eyes, had convinced him this time was different. He'd gotten through to her more than he'd thought he would.

He moved away from her, realizing how stupid he must have looked. This had been the third time he'd shed a tear in her presence – only two of which she knew of. Somehow in the back of his mind he'd pushed away all thoughts of how exposed they had been sitting together in the breakroom. He hadn't realized how intimate her gesture was until he realized there were others outside who had seen it.

Judy from the reception desk had seen them, David Hodges had seen them, and anyone else who'd been passing had seen them. He realized this as he saw Hodges and Judy ducking away quickly when they realized he saw them looking.

Gil and Sara looked at each other with much concern, and knew it wouldn't be long before the word got out. They'd gone too far this time…

They'd crossed the line.

* * *

Pretty blah chapter, I know...only 8 chapters to go...(story ends at 100, just letting you know ahead of time, lol). Look for me and Wishing on the Moon's new story under the penname "Sunrays and Moonbeams" if you want something to read in the meantime. It'll be under the title "Inadmissible Evidence" :)

Thanks to the following people for reviewing:

Mystical Panther, SarahMakinson, leddy, princesspink, UnspokenLoves, csi girl, Almeida's-Angel24, Veronica, jtbwriter, CSIfreak92, berta101, ManipJunkie, MiraclesFan22, silence89, princessklutz04, Aidrianna, wandaa, csmit99, svcmc, Juwist,

I think that's everyone, hope I didn't forget anyone.


	93. Chapter 93: Wildfire

**Chapter 93**

**Wildfire**

* * *

****

Catherine let herself into Gil's office later that shift, without even announcing her presence. The way she shut the door abruptly and glanced through the blinds quickly as if to make sure no one was watching her was more than enough to get Gil's attention.

He raised his head from the report he was writing, raising an eyebrow at her behavior. Even without her saying why he already knew why she was there.

"Everyone is talking, Grissom…"

"About?" he played the fool and gave a weary sigh, placing his pen down neatly beside the folder he was working from.

"You and Sara…" Catherine swallowed, "Nick and I got back from a crime scene to hear the rumour spreading like wildfire about how you were holding her hands in the break room, and then she had her hands all over your face…jesus, Grissom, you look like shit by the way…" she looked at him.

The emotion had taken it's toll on Gil, and he felt and looked so much older than he knew he should have at this point. His face was heavy with sadness and exhaustion. "Thanks, I really don't hear that enough," he responded quietly.

"Why were you so blatantly obvious in the break room? You could have waited…could have at least waited until you were in your office and had the blinds closed…" Catherine said. "Hodges knows. You realize that don't you? Hodges told ME about like it was something he thought I didn't know about. As if," she rolled her eyes.

Gil sighed again, cradling his head in his hands. He'd known the minute he'd seen Hodges out in the hall that it spelled Trouble with a capital T.

"God and you know what's worse, he actually thought I'd be upset to hear about you and Sara. Like I was in love with you or something," Catherine shook her head in disgrace.

Gil didn't feel like laughing and yet, couldn't contain himself. The absurdity of that statement left his heart lighter than perhaps it had been before.

"It's not funny, damn it!" Catherine made a face, "people in this lab think that I think I can't do any better than you!" she hissed.

He shook his head, the laughter beginning to die down, "oh come on, Cath. You're basing that thought on something Hodges said?" He looked at her skeptically.

Catherine sighed.

"This whole thing is absurd. But on the bright side people won't think I'm gay anymore," he mused. He picked up the pen and continued with his report regardless of Catherine's being there.

"What about Ecklie?" she asked, tossing her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, she came over and sat on the edge of his desk.

"What about him?" Gil shrugged nonchalantly.

"He's your boss," Catherine reminded.

"I'm not worried about Conrad Ecklie," Gil decided, and truly, he wasn't, although he found it hard to believe himself.

"He could fire you."

"For exchanging romantic gestures with a subordinate?" he asked. "I checked the employee handbook a long time ago. Dating a colleague isn't forbidden. Frowned upon, but not forbidden. And as for what happened in the break room, Conrad can't touch me or Sara on this. It was on our own time, during our break. Okay, so we were at work at the time, but it's not like we were screwing on the table," he gave a wry smile.

"Yeah, well you're just lucky tonight is Ecklie's night off, you at least have time to think of what you're gonna say when he asks what the hell is going on around here," Catherine folded her arms casually.

"Y'know, I don't need to think about it. I know what precisely I'm going to say. That it's none of his damn business," Gil frowned.

"You know, you're taking this surprisingly well," Catherine admitted.

"Should I not be?"

"I just figured you'd be freaking out by now. You've been striving for months to keep your relationship with Sara a secret, and now everyone knows…"

Gil realized she was right. He expected himself somewhat to be feeling apprehensive about the whole thing, but somehow, he was surprisingly calm. Maybe he was just too exhausted to give a damn anymore, he wasn't sure. "I'm not freaking."

"Your personal life has just been exposed. Everyone knows your business. And you're acting like you don't care," Catherine remarked.

"That's just it," Gil put the pen down again and folded his arms over his stomach, "I just don't care anymore. I've given my whole damn life to this job. I had my priorities all wrong…"

Catherine snorted, "please, who are you and what have you done with the real Gil Grissom?"

"We've had this discussion already Catherine. I've changed. I'm the real Gil Grissom. That other guy, the guy who spent all his time at work, never allowing himself to feel anything, forget him. He doesn't exist anymore – and as far as I'm concerned that's the best way for it. I had to kill him off the minute I decided to be with Sara. He's long gone, dead and buried."

Catherine looked at him, slightly surprised.

"He won't be coming back. Ever."

A knock at the door startled them both, and they gazed at the door to see Sara step in. Sara shut the door in a rage, "Hodges just asked me if screwing you is going to get me a promotion."

Gil pursed his lips to keep from laughing in amusement. One thing about Hodges, he didn't mince words.

"It's not funny, Grissom! The whole damn lab knows about us! They're asking questions, I can't get a minutes peace!" Sara complained.

"Hey, you had as much to do with this as I did," he reminded, holding up his hands in defense.

"I know…but…"

"Sara…we might as well face it. The whole lab had to know sooner or later. And now they do there's nothing we can do about it. Lets just ignore it. Eventually, people will forget all about it, or stop caring. Tomorrow it'll be yesterdays news," he reminded.

Sara gave a frustrated sigh, folding her arms and looking away with a dark expression on her face.

Gil glanced to Catherine, "Cath, could you, uh, give us a minute?"

"Sure. I gotta get back to work anyway," Catherine stood slowly, she gave the both a suspicious glance and a smirk before leaving the office, closing the door quietly behind herself.

"Ecklie is off today, isn't he?" Sara asked once Catherine had left.

"Yeah," Gil answered, he gestured to the chair in front of his desk, and Sara took a seat hesitantly.

"I figured. By now I'd have expected to be dragged into his office and dictated to on the evils of interoffice dating," Sara made a face, she put her hands on her lap.

"There isn't anything he can do. There was nothing particularly inappropriate about what happened in the break room. If you want I can deny everything and say you were simply comforting me," Gil kept his eyes firmly glued onto hers.

"Comforting you?" Sara asked.

"I took personal time off for my mothers funeral, it's on file, Sara," Gil reminded, "Ecklie knows about that. I could easily say I'm still grief stricken and that you were trying to pull me together again before the next half of the shift began," he offered. "If Hodges is so damn observant he'd have probably noticed you wiping the tear from my face," Gil added, slightly embarrassed.

"No…" Sara shook her head, "I can't let you do that…it's lies. We've spent the last four months lying…and it keeps snowballing."

"Fine," Gil propped his elbows on the desk, he rested his chin on his hands, "then like I said to Cath, even if Conrad wants to pull us over the proverbial coals for what happened, there isn't much he can do. We weren't being intimate during work hours, we were on a break."

Sara watched him carefully with her serious brown eyes.

"Anyway," Gil straightened, he put both hands on the desk, "Lets change the subject. I'm done worrying about this whole thing," he remarked. "Have you spoken to Andrew?"

"Not yet," Sara said, "I thought of calling my apartment but…"

"But?" Gil asked.

"I'm still pissed at him."

"What is the deal with your brother, Sara? During the argument I only picked up bits and pieces of the puzzle," Gil looked at her.

"He….he's having some…financial difficulty," Sara managed.

"That I figured," Gil raised an eyebrow. "Sara, if there's more I need to know about this…then you should tell me…"

"Andrew has had a tough year…drugs…alcohol…girlfriend dumped him," Sara sighed, "he can't hold down a job, what little money he'd had he blew it on a bad investment with a friend. He's up to his neck in debt, he was kicked out of his apartment," she sighed. "He's trying to get back on track, it's just hard..."

"Is he still using drugs?"

"No…" Sara said firmly, "I made sure of that."

"The day he arrived I could have sworn he was on something," Gil confessed, "which is why I'm so surprised he wasn't stopped by security the minute he tried to get into the building. I know the signs, Sara, I'm not stupid."

Sara looked away.

"He was on something," Gil sighed.

"I took care of it," Sara assured.

"How?"

"When we got in here," she reminded him that she'd used the office to speak privately with her brother, "I searched him for drugs."

"What'd you find?"

"Crack," Sara frowned.

"Jesus, Sara, you had CRACK in my office!" he gaped.

"Ssh," Sara's eyes burned intense as she looked at him in a frown.

"Sorry…I…you had crack in here?"

"I got rid of it," Sara assured, "but I couldn't have Andrew arrested for possession…I know it's wrong, I know I could lose my job over it, but…" she swallowed, "he's my brother."

"I know," Gil sighed. "What are you doing to help Andrew?"

"I arranged him to see a counselor. I'm constantly checking to make sure he's not on drugs, or hiding drugs in my apartment," she reeled off, "I'm helping him look for work but so far he hasn't found anything…" Sara sighed, "Until I find him a job, I can't get him out of my apartment. He has nowhere else to stay and he can barely take care of himself…"

"Some day he's going to have to learn, Sara," Gil pointed out.

"I know. But in the meantime, there's nothing I can do…"

Gil let her words sink in, and spent a few moments pondering what the solution to all these problems could be. "Sara…it can't be easy living with him."

"It isn't," Sara sighed.

"Move in with me."

"Huh?" Sara blinked, she looked at him as if she couldn't quite believe he'd just brought this up again.

"Move in with me. Let your brother take over your apartment."

"I can't do that. What if he brought drugs into the place…?"

"He could already have done it. If he hasn't done it now, then maybe he's proved he can be responsible enough to keep drugs out of there," Gil pointed out. "And as for living with you…He's not going to get a job if you keep taking care of him and giving him money…"

"Gil, that's—" Sara began with a frown.

"I know, it's none of my business," he nodded, "but just hear me out. Leaving him to fend for himself might seem harsh, I'll admit, but…if he thinks you're gonna be there all the time, he might be relying on you, it might be holding him back."

Sara looked away, pursing her lips together.

"You know I'm right, Sara. Coddling him and giving him money isn't going to make him take care of himself."

Sara looked as if she was beginning to sway.

Gil waited for her to respond.

"I…uh, I'll think about it," Sara said softly, and she stood up, she stretched and gave a yawn, which made Gil yawn too.

"At least come back to my place after the shift. Get some sleep, and then you can go home and check on your brother before the next shift starts." Gil offered, "Andrew should have cooled down by tonight."

Sara paused at the door, then sighed, "okay…fine."

Gil smiled, "see you at the end of shift."

* * *

93 down, 7 to go, ;)

Thanks to everyone for constantly reviewing, it means so much. I'm going to miss all those reviews when this story eventually ends.I'll still be doing other fanfic though so there'll always be something for you guys to read, lol. Might not have as much sex and angst as "finding me" but it'll do in a pinch, lol.

Ash


	94. Chapter 94: Ring

**Chapter 94**

**Ring**

* * *

It was good to be home, stepping into the comfortable confines of his townhouse with Sara at his back, her hand tenderly touching the small of his back in an almost innocent but affectionate gesture.

Gil heard Sara yawn, and looked over his shoulder to see her stifling it against the back of her hand, her eyes momentarily closed, lashes caressing her cheeks.

"God, I think I could sleep for a year," Sara grumbled, she moved away from him to slip off her jacket and hang it on the peg on the wall in the small hallway.hung his jacket up too, "I know the feeling. Wait 'til you get to my age, then you'll know what real exhaustion is. Some days the trek from this hall to my car is enough to drain me," he smirked.

Sara nudged him playfully and headed towards the living room.

"Do you want any breakfast before we go to bed?" Gil offered as he followed her.

"Nah," Sara responded, she took her keys and cell phone out of her pocket and placed them on the kitchen counter.

Gil walked across the living room absently, sifting through the pile of mail he'd brought in from the mailbox outside, "bill, bill, bill, readers digest…bill. Oh look, I've already won ten thousand dollars…" he shoved her the junk mail envelope announcing the fact with a wry smile on his face.

Sara grinned, "great, that'll go towards redecorating this place."

He raised his head and looked at her strangely, "why would we need to redecorate this place?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Too much white and gray. Not enough colour," Sara shrugged, "It's not homey, it's…" she trailed off, looking for the right words.

"Austere?"

"I was going to say clinical," Sara smirked.

Gil smiled slightly, "you never let it bother you before," he placed the pile of mail on the counter and moved up behind her wrapping his arms around her tenderly, "but since you're talking about wanting to add colour into my house, I can only assume you've made a decision about moving in?" he asked hopefully and kissed her ear.

Sara moved away from him with a laugh, "not so fast. I haven't made any decision, I'm simply thinking ahead in case I do."

"Would you want to redecorate if we were living together alternatively like we originally arranged?" Gil asked, he leaned on the counter and looked at her curiously.

"I don't know," Sara said.

"What would you do to this place?" he asked with a grin.

"Get rid of some of the god awful furniture. Paint the walls…I don't know, deep red…burgundy maybe. Less harsh lighting, more candles," she looked around the large room, he could already see her envisioning in her head how it was going to look.

"Get rid of my furniture?" he pretended to look hurt.

"Oh come on, I've sat on cold metal park benches that are more comfortable than your couch. Your bed is like sleeping on the floor. The end tables in your bedroom are so old fashioned…"  
"So?"

"So…" Sara shrugged, "sorry, no, I have no right to say that," she sighed, "this is your house, not mines."

"If you move in with me…" he smiled slyly, "this could all be yours," he gestured a hand towards the room as if he were trying to sell the place to her.

"Tempting," Sara laughed, she gave another yawn.

"Go to bed. I'm gonna check online quickly and pay some of these bills," he picked up the pile of mail. "I'll be fifteen minutes, tops."

"Should I wait up?" Sara asked, she gave a coy smile as she headed towards the bedroom.

"Wasn't the shower enough for you, woman?"

"Woman?" Sara snorted in laughter, "see, we're not even living together and you're already going all caveman on me," she opened the bedroom door, "got something for me to wear to bed?"

"Should be some clean t-shirts in my dresser, second drawer," he said, tearing envelopes open.

He sat down at the dining table, opened his laptop, and logged online, it barely took five minutes for him to pay two of the bills he'd received that morning. The rest, he decided, could wait. Exhaustion was pulling at him, and his mind was threatening to shut down at any moment.

Gil logged off, closed his laptop, and made his way to the bedroom, expecting Sara would probably already be changed into one of his t-shirts and sleeping soundly in his bed. The thought of curling up to her warm body and sleeping deeply for a full eight hours was sheer bliss.

Sara had left the bedroom door open, and he stopped at the door to gaze in, finding her standing at the dresser in her underwear – he took note of the burgundy lace underwear set she was wearing. _She must have changed into that at work, it definitely didn't have that on yesterday_, he thought with a smirk, wondering if perhaps even in his exhaustion he could find it in himself to make love to her before falling asleep.

In fact, just staring at her, he no longer felt tired. He found his thoughts changing when he noted she wasn't standing idle, but she was distracted by something- it took a moment for him to realize what it was she was doing.

Gil had somewhat forgotten all about the velvet ring box containing the engagement ring he'd bought her. He hadn't forgotten about the proposal, or being shot down, but he definitely had forgotten about the ring itself. It had been in that drawer of his dresser since returning to Vegas. It wasn't like he'd hidden it there, but he didn't like it out in plain view all the same. The box was open and sitting on top of the dresser now, and Sara was holding the ring, examining the glimmer of the diamond in the light.

She was fascinated in a way he'd never seen before. He hadn't seen her quite look at the ring like that the first time she'd seen it on the plane. In fact, he was sure she might have been so stunned, that she hadn't really seen the ring at all, perhaps all she'd seen was the vague sparkle of a diamond.

He wanted to smile, but somehow forced it back and just continued watching her. Sara was so completely oblivious to his presence, standing there in her underwear with the ring between her thumb and her forefinger. It glimmered in the beams of light coming from the blind slats over the window. Tiny flickers of colour sparkled magnificently, mesmerizing them both for several moments.

That diamond ring was the second most beautiful thing in the bedroom. Gil smiled, and decided that Sara was most definitely the first.

_God,_ he inwardly sighed, _if she hadn't turned down that proposal on the plane, where would be now? Would we be already married? This is Vegas after all, we could have been married overnight if we'd wanted, _he mused. He shook his head at himself. _No…maybe I was thinking too far ahead then. We haven't lived together properly, we still have occasional blowouts at each other…maybe it's a good thing she rejected the proposal. Still hurts though._

Then, Sara did something he never expected her to do. After a moment of hesitation, she slipped the band onto her ring finger and held her hand out, admiring it, the expression in her eyes dazed.

Gil felt his heart almost stop right in his chest.

Sara smiled fondly, and shifted her hand to watch the ring catch the light.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Gil finally managed in a nervous breath. _Stop being nervous. The time for shyness is over._

Sara gasped and turned around, she seemed more exposed than she ever had, and it wasn't from lack of clothing. Her expression was full of guilt and her cheeks flushed bright pink.

"I couldn't quite see you in gold," Gil moved over slowly, "I don't think I've ever seen you wear gold in all the years we've known each other," he took her hand and twisted the band around her finger to check how it fit. "So I decided on platinum…" he stared down at the glimmering ring. "Diamond is bezel mounted, so that it wouldn't cut your latex gloves if you should happen to wear it at work. Twenty-five caret diamond…catches the light so wonderfully."

Sara sucked in a breath, "I never…really looked at it properly. Has it been here all this time?"

"Yeah…just waiting for right woman to claim it," he raised his eyes to hers hoping she'd be looking at him, but she was staring down at the ring.

"How did you know my ring size?" Sara asked.

"Lucky guess…" he answered, and he stared at her. His heart was thudding hard in his chest. The question over and over in his mind was screaming to know what it meant that she'd slipped the ring on. Was she curious, or…was she accepting? He wasn't sure anymore. He tried to search her eyes but she wouldn't look at him.

He reached out and cupped her cheek with his free hand, and made her look at him, keeping his eyes pinned on her, trying to search the truth out of her. _Unsure,_ he thought broken-heartedly. _She looks unsure._

Sara took her hand away from his slowly, and slipped the ring off, twisting it a little so it came off easier. She took his hand and placed the ring in it, she closed his fingers around it gently as if she thought it might break in his grasp.

"You have good taste, Gil," she said softly.

_And there it is. She's handed the ring back. She's not ready to wear it yet,_ he thought unhappily.

Gil tried to force back the heartache of yet another proposal rejection – although this was unofficially a proposal since he hadn't uttered the words 'will you marry me' yet. _Maybe I should have, maybe I should have fell to my knees right there and begged for her hand in marriage the second she handed me the ring. _

"I…I like to think so," he managed, trying to hide the emotion in his voice.

Without so much as another word, Sara turned her back, slipped out of her bra, grabbed the first t-shirt she could find in the open drawer, and slipped it on.

Grissom held the ring and looked down at it sadly. He shook his head at himself for feeling so foolish as to have momentarily had his hopes up that she might have wanted to be his wife. He placed the ring back in the box dropped it in the drawer where it belongs.

_She knows where it is if she wants to wear it,_ he decided, but even the voice in his head seemed angry and hurt.

For the second time in two days, they went to bed together in silence, not fighting, but not speaking to each other. And for the second time in two days, they turned their backs to each other. Grissom found himself wondering if this was to be yet another sleepless day.

* * *

This makes, what, his third rejection now? LOL. Ouch, that's gotta stinggggggggggg.

As per usual, thanks to the following people for reviewing my story:

Bernadette, Upright8Infinity, csi-ds9, Casswhole, Veronica, princessklutz04, UnspokenLoves, Silence89, Mystical Panther, jtbwriter, lilegyptiangoddess, Aidrianna, Marbs, Phoenix38133, CSIfreak92, leddy, csishewolf, juwist, SarahMakinson, princesspink, djkittycat

Hope I didn't forget anyone. Hope no one is going to send me hatemail because Sara returned the ring to him, lol. Aaaaaaaaaaah, I'm gonna go hide just in case.

Ash


	95. Chapter 95: Really

**Chapter 95**

**Really**

* * *

****

When Gil woke up late that afternoon after having had very little sleep. He rolled over to find himself alone in bed, and immediately everything came back to him what had happened before he'd fallen asleep. The returning of the ring. Just another rejection to a proposal. He gave a sigh and sat up wearily, looking around the room for any signs that Sara might still be around.

Her clothes were gone from the chair she'd put them on before going to bed, and the t-shirt she'd worn sleeping was hanging on the bedstead.

_Left before I even had the chance to wake up,_ he despaired. Part of him was frustrated with her having gone before he'd awakened, the other part of him was somewhat relieved. He wasn't sure what he was going to say once he saw her at work. He wasn't sure if he had anything to apologise about, and he was particularly sure that he had no reason to be mad at Sara either.

_You're not going to say anything else about it,_ Gil pulled himself out of the bed and crossed the room to stare out of the window. _You're going to pretend it never happened and just be the guy you were five minutes before you ever found her with that damn ring._

Somehow, Gil forced himself not to think about it and he went through the next hour and half managing on auto pilot, getting ready for work without needing to think at all. He made himself some food, but found very little appetite to eat it.

_Is this that old 'lovesick' thing? Can't eat, can't sleep, can't think straight. My whole life has been turned upside down by this woman,_ he thought with a sigh as he cleared away his dishes.

By the time he'd arrived to work, the shift was five minutes away from starting. The team were all in the break room and Sara was amongst them, flicking through the pages of a magazine in a bored fashion. When he entered the break room, assignments in hand, he saw Sara glance up to him briefly.

_She looks anxious, and upset,_ Gil thought, he forced a smile at her although he could tell she'd interpret it as such. He handed out assignments, but deliberately held Sara back, grabbing her gently by the arm before she left the room behind the others.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked of her, once the others had gone out of the break room and out of earshot. They moved together away from the open door, and Sara closed it.

"Are you?" Sara asked softly, without answering his question.

"I'm…" Gil didn't truthfully know how to answer, and he faltered, looking left and right whilst searching his brain for a suitable response. _I'm not exactly fine. And if I lie now, she'll know. Better not answer at all. Better change the subject before this conversation gets out of hand._

Sara looked at him waiting for the answer he'd never give.

Gil completely changed the subject quickly, "How's your brother?"

She seemed surprised, but answered. "Bruised and swollen, still as pigheaded as usual," Sara looked down to the floor, folding her arms insecurely over her stomach. "We yelled at each other a little more when I went back this afternoon…guess we're not really on talking terms at the moment."

Gil chewed the inside of his cheek, "do…you want to stay with me a few extra days…while you figure it all out? Because…you know you're always welcome in my house…whenever you want."

Sara gave a nod, "okay."

Awkward silence fell between them. These silences felt all too frequent and uncomfortable.

_Okay. Changing the subject really didn't help at all. You need to talk this out with her, Gil,_ he thought at himself. _Otherwise you're not going to be able to concentrate on anything else until you deal with it. Otherwise you'll spend the next few days with your back turned to her every time you sleep. _

"Sara…I…" he paused, not quite knowing what he'd wanted to say, "I'm not mad," he finally managed.

"I know," Sara nodded, and she met his eyes, "I know you're not mad."

He gave a sigh, "I'm…"

"Upset," she finished.

"Hurt," he corrected.

"Oh," her eyes fell to the floor, her cheeks blanched a little.

"But, y'know…that's my problem. It's not yours," he placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, more in the way he'd reassure her as a colleague and an employee than comfort her as the woman he loved. "And I guess I'll get over it, in time."

"I, uh…" Sara began but she seemed to fall into the same wordless awkwardness Gil usually found himself in.

Gil knew she couldn't find the words to explain how the whole thing felt, and so he simply decided to let it slide – for now.

"Go work on your case. We'll talk later," Gil sighed, the tension in the room was thick and the conversion was best left until they had some private time.

"You sure?" asked, her eyes remained settled on his. Her eyes seemed so much darker than usual, and he couldn't read them at all, which made him feel uneasy. He wished he knew what was going on behind those eyes. Right now those eyes weren't windows to her soul, they were like closed doors, not letting him in.

"I'm sure," he nodded.

Sara didn't say another word, she just simply left him standing there, and he sighed inwardly feeling slightly rejected even though he'd told her to go. With his coffee cup in hand, he headed towards his office to get some work done, deciding he'd do paperwork for an hour or so then go out in the field.

As he passed by the DNA Lab, he noted Conrad Ecklie in there. He saw the look Ecklie was giving him, and the man was so devious it was hard to understand what might be going on in that domed head of his.

Gil made a face at himself. _Don't worry about it. There's nothing he can do. It's out of his hands,_ he thought as he stepped into his office and shut the door behind himself.

One hours worth of paperwork turned into three hours, and Gil tried to distract himself from his problems as much as he could. It seemed every time he glanced up to his open door, Ecklie was passing by. And Ecklie would keep giving him those knowing disapproving looks which Gil detested so much. Gil made himself extra busy whenever Ecklie decided to pass just to make himself look unavailable.

_If Ecklie thinks I'm swamped, he won't come in asking questions. He'd rather I get the work down than leave it undone while he plays boss,_ he figured.

By the start of hour four on the shift, Gil looked up to see Greg Sanders strolling into his office, a concerned expression etched on his bruised face. "Hey, Griss…" Greg said, he sounded tired and unenthusiastic. Uncharacteristically unlike himself.

"Hmm?" Gil asked, he was chewing on the end of a pen absently, slumped over his desk feeling just as drained as Greg looked.

Greg closed the door quietly behind himself, and took a seat without even being asked. "Ecklie has been asking everyone questions…all kinds of really weird questions about you…"

"I expected that," Gil confessed.

"He pulled Catherine into his office first, then Warrick, and he was asking all these questions that aren't good…" Greg continued. "Cath and Warrick came to warn me so I could get my head together about what I can say. Ecklie wants to see me in his office in about twenty minutes…" he checked his watch.

"Oh."

"He's asking if you're a good supervisor, Griss…" Greg answered, "Asking all kinds of stuff about your work, why our evaluations are always late and stuff…" he explained, "I just thought…maybe I should come ask you how I should answer if he asks me the same things."

Gil sat and grimly reflected, "the only thing you can do is answer with the truth."

"Look, Grissom, if you want me to lie…" Greg said in a low tone, looking very uneasy, he leaned forward, "I can do that."

"You shouldn't have to cover for me," Gil replied firmly, "just tell him the truth of whatever he asks. If it makes me look bad, it's my problem. I don't want you lying for me."

"Warrick said he's also asking questions about Sara…"

"Oh?" Gil asked, he swallowed nervously but tried to not let Greg see the concern he was feeling at the subject.

"He asked Catherine and Warrick if you were sleeping with Sara," Greg finally said, a strange serious expression on his face.

"So?"

"Warrick said something along the lines of 'I don't know and it's not my business and it's not yours'. I think Ecklie is pissed at Warrick."

Gil merely smiled at the thought, and he had to admire Warrick for being as straight forward as that.

"Listen, we were all talking – except Sara that is, she's still out on the field – and we decided that if Ecklie fires you, we'd all threaten to quit. We all WOULD quit if he fires you, Griss. With all the graveyard shift gone he'd HAVE to get you back or we wouldn't come back, simple as that."

"Ecklie wouldn't go for that. He probably has a back up plan in case that happens," Gil smirked, "no, don't worry about it. He's not going to fire me. Trust me."

"What if he does?" Greg asked.

"Then…I don't know, I'll find something else to do. This isn't the only job in Las Vegas," Gil pointed out.

"You once told us all that you couldn't do anything else but be a CSI."

"Times change," Gil sighed, "anyway, if I was fired, I could use all that free time to write a book on forensic entomology…or…I don't know, go in to teaching," he shrugged. "World is my Oyster."

"You're taking this a lot easier than I thought you would," Greg confessed.

"Greg, I've lived five decades without really having a life. I've let being a CSI stand in my way for almost two decades, I'm not about to let it stand in the way anymore," he sighed, "the truth is…" he paused, trying to think.

"The truth is…?" Greg asked curiously.

"The truth is…I lost my love of the job a long time ago."

"You did?" Greg asked.

"Come on , Greg. All I do is push paper, I'm barely out in the field anymore. I'm not happy at work like I used to be."

Greg seemed stunned, "Really?"

"Really. I don't love the job anymore," Gil sighed. "And if Ecklie fires me, then I'll find something I do love to do. I'll go somewhere where I can make a difference doing more than just adding signatures to a piece of paper."

"So…if Ecklie asks me if I think you're coping with the job?" Greg asked, something about the way he said it sounded forced, and unlike him.

"Be honest. Be as brutally honest as you can be. Don't cover for me at all. I'm sure whatever Ecklie has planned is inevitable anyway. If you try to cover for me, he'll see through it. So just be yourself."

"Okay…I'll try to be as honest as I can," Greg promised.

Gil forced a smile, "thanks."

* * *

Another blah chapter, sorry.(and yeah, the next one is pretty blah too, I'm going to upload them together. 


	96. Chapter 96: A Hundred Percent Totally Fi...

**Chapter 96**

**A Hundred Percent Totally Fine**

* * *

****

One by one he watched them go off to Ecklie's office. First Greg, then Nick, then Sara. Greg and Nick returned only looking slightly upset by whatever questions had been asked in the privacy of Ecklie's office. Sara, however, returned looking rather angry and indignant.

She was stomping her way across the hall past Gil's office when he saw her, and he pulled himself to his feet and rushed after her, grabbing her by the arm tenderly, "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

"Conrad Ecklie is an arrogant, ass-kissing son-of-a-bitch motherfucker who can go blow himself as far as I'm concerned!" Sara burst. "He just hauled me into his office minute I got back from the field and started asking stuff that as far as I'm concerned he had no business asking!"

Gil merely blinked, any other time he might have perhaps laughed at her insults of Ecklie, but right now, the situation seemed far too grave to even manage the slightest smile.

"C'mon, lets go talk in my office…" he took her by the hand – not caring what the surrounding staff might think – and led her to his office. He closed the door behind them both.

Sara sat down in the chair, slumped over, and sighed deeply.

"What did he say?" Gil asked once he was behind his desk.

"He was asking all kinds of inappropriate questions," Sara uttered, "First thing he asked is 'are you sleeping with Grissom'. I couldn't believe it, I sat there stunned. He started asking stuff like if we're just having a fling…if it's serious. God, he was asking if you'd kept me from being promoted because of our relationship. Asking me if you ever treated me as anything other than an employee at work or if I got special benefits because of our relationship…"

Gil sighed, "he had no right to ask if we're sleeping together."

"Gil, he was asking stuff about your job…about how competent you are at it, about how well you cope with stress. He asked me if you my evaluations regularly and always check my reports…" she sighed.

"How did you answer?" Gil took off his glasses and scratched the bridge of his nose.

"As honestly as I could."

"Which is?"

"I said you always get around to it when you can because of the huge workloads they keep parking on your desk," Sara responded, "it's not your fault you do our evaluations late."

Gil nodded, "Yeah. The workload has gotten pretty ridiculous. It's been months since I was properly out in the field like I used to be," he sighed.

"Do you think Ecklie is going to fire you?" Sara asked concernedly, and she met his eyes.

"I don't know. I'd like to think that Ecklie doesn't have the balls to do it," Gil confessed, "but…if he was concerned for the labs integrity, he'd probably go right ahead and kick me out before I had a chance to explain myself," he admitted.

Sara sighed, "Gil…I'm sorry I got you into this…"

"I got myself into this," he reminded, "I knew what could eventually happen, Sara. But when I told you that you come first and work comes second, I meant that. And now that I've told you that, I'm going to have to tell Ecklie that also. And if he doesn't like it, then he can fire me."

"If he fires you…"

"Please don't say you'll also quit," Gil responded quickly. "I heard this from Greg, already. And the others agreed to it, but I don't want anyone taking any risks. None of you should risk your jobs because of me."

Sara glared at him, "Gil, do you think I could just stand by and let Ecklie fire you and continue working here?"

The phone on Gil's desk began to ring, and he sighed picking it up. He glanced over to Sara as he spoke with Conrad Ecklie on the phone briefly, before hanging up.

"Ecklie wants to see me," he stood up slowly. "Gotta go face the music."

"Will you be okay?"

"I'm fine," he assured, he touched her shoulder as he passed by her and left the office.

Ooooooooooooooooo

By the time Gil had finally left Ecklie's office less than twenty minutes later, it was time for the hour break – when most of graveyard would eat their dinner. He stepped into the break room, only to find no one was eating, and everyone looked nervous.

Sara was sitting silent, her arms folded, her expression brooding, as if she already had it in her head this was the beginning of the end.

Catherine raised her head at once upon Gil's entry, "Well?" she asked.

"Well?" Gil asked nonchalantly, and made his way to the fridge to grab a soda, he didn't feel the situation warranted any overreacting on his part. He'd already dealt with the onslaught of nerves. That was over. He was calm now.

"You just spent half an hour in Ecklie's office after he's been interrogating us all…" Catherine gestured to her colleagues.

Gil was very aware that everyone was looking at him with a strange expectancy, they all looked incredibly concerned, "yeah, so?"

"So…what'd he say?"

Gil paused, opened the can of soda, took a sip, then remained quiet for a moment to reflect on how he should tell them. He opted for the straightforward approach. "Ecklie…wasn't happy," he mused.

"About us?" Sara asked, without looking up.

"About many things in particular," Gil answered, "but the fact that I'm dating you also gave him cause for concern, yeah. He says any evaluations or discipline I've given you over the last four months should be called into question. However, when I pointed out that I actually reprimanded you and suspended you from work after the fight with the suspect, Ecklie took my word for it that I was nothing but professional. But he's still not altogether happy that I'm involved with you, Sara…"

"But it's like you said, he can't do anything," Catherine spoke up, reminding him that they weren't alone in the break room.

"If you mean he can't force me to break up with Sara 'for the good of the lab', then yeah, he can't do anything," Gil answered, "However…he has taken action."

"What action?" Greg asked.

Gil took a deep breath, "I've, uh, been demoted."

"Demoted?" Nick asked, looking completely mystified.

"Demoted," Gil nodded.

"Just because you're romantically involved with a subordinate?" Catherine gaped.

"Uh, no," Gil answered, "Actually, because I've let so much work slide, I've neglected paperwork, been late in filling out employee evaluation forms…" he shrugged, "This is one of the times I've actually agreed with Ecklie. I'm not handling the job as well as I used to. I'm not coping. Ecklie said it himself. I'm a terrible supervisor."

"That's bullshit!" Warrick grunted, "you're the best damn supervisor graveyard has ever had."

"I was," Gil decided to be immodest for the moment, "but not anymore."

"We don't have to take this you know, we can do something…we can protest…" Greg said.

"Like I said, I don't want anyone risking their jobs," Gil assured, "And anyway, I like the idea. I'll admit, I've let things slide around here. I can't keep up with the mounds of paperwork anymore. I'm sick of juggling employee vacation sheets and monthly evaluations and inventory forms. You know, I'm actually quite glad to be demoted."

"So…what now?" Greg asked.

"Well…" Gil took another sip of his soda, "I clean out my office, take care of some things, and then I'm officially just one of you," he looked at them all.

"Grissom…" Sara said, and she used his last name so he knew she meant business, "you can't be okay with this."

"Do I look like I'm not okay?" Gil gave a slight laugh, "really…I'm fine. I pretended to be pissed off with the idea for Ecklie's benefit…but…I'm thrilled…really."

Catherine moved over to him, "Why would you be thrilled? You do remember you'll be on less pay, less vacation time, and under someone else's command…"

"The money isn't important. Less vacation time isn't important, and being under someone else's command…well, I'll learn to live with that," Gil confessed. "What does appeal to me though is that I'll be just a CSI again. I'll be out in the field doing what I do best. I won't be behind a desk pushing paper and taking phone calls. I'll be working with the team again. I can make more difference out in the field and in the labs than I can behind that damn desk," Gil placed the soda can down.

"Who's taking over as supervisor?" Sara asked.

Gil shrugged, "Well, Conrad wasn't specific, but he did say that at the end of break, he wants to speak with Catherine…" he trailed off and smiled at Catherine.

"Me?" Catherine asked.

"You always told me you could probably do my job," Gil smirked, "And, well, when I was gone, you kept up with things…"

"But…" Catherine began.

"You always wanted to be a supervisor. This is your chance. Of course, it's not official until Ecklie has you in his office and asks you himself," Gil placed his hand on Catherine's shoulder. "You'll do fine."

"Gil…you're taking this way too well…" Catherine made a face, "are you sure you're not about to have some kind of weird break down, because I've seen this happen before. People acting so fine that it's obvious things aren't fine and then they snap."

"I'm not gonna snap. Believe me, I couldn't be happier," Gil smirked, "also, my uh, change in rank…makes things easier." he trailed off.

Sara had been turned away from Gil but her head snapped around and she stared at him, "since you're not a supervisor, Ecklie can't say anything about your relationship with me anymore…" she realized.

"Right. If you get a promotion, or don't get promoted, it's nothing to do with my biased opinions," Gil nodded. "And dating each other is nothing in the employee handbook that can actually be frowned upon either."

"Wait a minute…" Catherine paused, "What about me and Warrick?" she frowned.

"I'd wait until you're officially a supervisor before telling Ecklie about it. But since you dated before a promotion, I can't see a problem.

Sara looked at Gil, "You're really fine with this?"

"I'm a hundred percent totally fine with this," Gil promised.

"Okay," Sara nodded, although she still seemed very unsure about the whole situation.

Gil smirked, "anyway," he grabbed his soda can, "I have to go, uh, pick up some boxes and clear away the stuff from my office. Enjoy the rest of your break."

* * *

Sorry for the double blahness of the last two chapters :P

Ah, thanks to everyone for reviewing so far:

Veronica, csmit99, wandaa, Mystical Panther, silence89, Almeida's-Angel24, leddy, csi-ds9, UnspokenLoves, sarah makinson, Aidriana, lilegyptiangoddess, princessklutz04, marbs, and jtbwriter.

Ah, anyway, 4 more chapters to go, and then it's the end sniffle. But never fear, as I say, because I do write other stuff, (check out the 4 other stories I have in the meantime, lol).

Ash


	97. Chapter 97: You'll Get the Idea

**Chapter 97**

**You'll Get the Idea**

* * *

****

The office seemed empty already. With the help of Greg and Nick, Gil had managed to almost wipe his office out entirely, throwing most things into boxes with reckless abandon, and anything delicate was packaged carefully, taped into large boxes. He was sure his Denali would never accommodate it all. Sara offered the use of her car for anything extra, the rest could be retrieved at the start of next shift.

"Office seems so empty," Greg said looking around, "doesn't even seem like the same office anymore…"

Gil shrugged, "it's just a room," he said, and he felt a strange sadness seeing the room so bare, nothing but the desk, chair and a lamp. A bunch of boxes piled up against the wall waiting to be transported out of the lab for good. To be honest, Gil hadn't even begun to think of where he was going to put them all at home.

They moved a good portion of the boxes into Gil's car, the backseats stacked with boxes, the passengers seat accommodating two boxes seatbelted there securely, and the trunk had as much as it could take.

Gil closed the trunk of his car with a little sigh, he heard the scuff of Greg's shoes as the young man came up behind him.

"Sara gave me her car keys and I've loaded her car with as much as it can take. If you want a hand, I can take some stuff in my car," Greg offered.

"It's fine, Greg. The rest I can take when the next shift ends. It's no problem."

"I spoke with Cath on the way down, she says take as long as you need in getting the rest of the stuff out of her new office," Greg teased.

Gil smiled a little, "nice to know she hasn't already become territorial."

"I can't believe you're not my boss anymore…" Greg admitted, he leaned on the car casually, and gave a slight sigh, "it was kinda…cool."

"I thought I made you nervous," Gil responded.

"You do. At least you weren't as distracting as Cath though," Greg grinned. "I'm gonna miss not having to answer to you anymore."

"Hey, it's not like I'm going anywhere. Think of it as a transition from working for me, to working beside me."

"Will do."

Gil looked at his watch, "end of shift Greg," he pointed out.

"Yeah," Greg gave a yawn, "I'll catch you at the start of next shift, CSI Grissom."

Gil watched Greg go and smirked a little. The sadness of losing his rank was still with him, but there was also the relief of a great weight taken off his shoulders. His responsibilities had been cut in half, and that meant less stress, and hopefully more sleep.

_Who am I kidding?_ He thought as he climbed into the car, groaning at the oppressive heat inside. _The only way I'm going to get more sleep is if I can resolve this problem with Sara. I have to stop taking her proposal rejections to heart, otherwise I'm never going to sleep again._

Gil rolled down the windows, cool air sifted in and he let his arm rest on the window for a moment, and let the car sit in the parking lot for a few moments before getting ready to start the engine.

"Hey, you," he heard a voice at the passengers side window, and he glanced to his side to see Sara leaning in, her eyes hidden by dark sunglasses, her hair gently swaying in the breeze.

"Hey, yourself," he leaned on the steering wheel.

"You look…happy," Sara commented.

"You have NO idea," Gil grinned, and she grinned right back at him. For the first time that day her smile seemed the most genuine he'd seen yet. In the sunlight, she looked incredibly stunning. He felt himself stir just looking at her. "Did Greg give you the car keys back?" he asked.

"Yeah," she jingled her car keys. "I have a car full of all your crap and I'm ready to transport it all."

"Meet you at my house," he smiled, and started the car, waited until she moved away from the window, drove off, leaving her to follow.

The drive home was serene, the sun had risen, and rays of gold coloured the street his house was on. He parked his car in the driveway and unloaded the boxes, carrying them into his home, lining most of them along a bare wall in the living room until he decided what to do with them.

"Where are you going to put this stuff, anyway?" he heard Sara's voice, she was coming through the front door – which he'd left open. She was carrying a large box, she had to stop and balance it on her knee for a moment before continuing across the hall.

"I don't know. If I can't find any storage space here, I could always rent somewhere to keep it. Or I could sell a lot of it on Ebay."

"Will you need the money?" Sara asked in concern, she placed the box down, stacking it on top of a few others of equal size.

"Never," he responded. "Even if the pay as a CSI is considerably less than my pay as a supervisor, I'll always be able to keep my head above water. Besides, I have savings…and I do make quite an income teaching at seminars."

"Plus there's my income," she headed towards the front door to go outside and retrieve more boxes.

Gil ran after her to help her, "Your income?"

Sara moved to her car, leaning into the back seat to get out another box. As he approached she handed him the box, "You expect me to live here rent free and not pay my share of the bills?"

He stared at her over the top of the box she'd handed him. "Excuse me?"

"What? You changed your mind about me living here now?"

"No, I'm just trying to remember when you actually told me you would move in," he answered, slightly taken aback by her nonchalance.

"I'm telling you now," Sara looked at him strangely, "did…you not understand that?" she asked.

"I…" he began, but couldn't find anything to finish the thoughts with.

"C'mon, lets get the rest of this stuff inside," she grabbed another box from her car and headed towards the house in front of him.

Gil grinned and followed her in, "So…you're moving in?"

"Why are you asking questions you already know the answer to?" Sara glanced over her shoulder.

He didn't have an answer. Together, without really speaking to each other, they retrieved all the boxes from both cars and lined them against the wall.

"You have too much crap," Sara commented finally, as they were standing looking at the boxes stacked against the wall.

"I know. And we still have to move all your crap in," he teased, nudging her playfully.

Sara folded her arms pretending to be indignant, "at least my crap is colourful and decorative, and doesn't contain dead animal specimens," she made a face.

Gil merely smiled.

"Gil…" Sara sighed, "baby…you're not…I mean…" she struggled with the words, "you are okay with being demoted and stuff…" she turned directly towards him and took his hands.

"Definitely."

"If you're not, you can tell me, you know that, right? I won't judge you if you're upset. I know your work was your whole life…"

"I'm not fired, I'm demoted. I'd rather be out in the field than behind a desk. I told you, I like this new arrangement."

"This is all my fault, you know," Sara admitted. "Before we were together, your work was fine, your job was secure…"

"And my life was empty and meaningless," Gil squeezed her hands. "I got my priorities straight. There's more important things than life than my job. I won't lie and say my job isn't important to me, and I won't lie and say I don't feel slightly sad that everything is changing. But…at the same time, I couldn't be more happy. So what if I lost my job as supervisor. I get to do something I really love again…and I get to be with you. I get to have my cake and eat it."

"Only if I say so," Sara teased, she released his hands from her grip.

"Looks like I won't be the one wearing the pants in this relationship," he teased right back.

Sara took his face in her hands, leaned up and pecked his lips softly, "if you change your mind, all of us will fight to get you your job as supervisor back…"

"No, don't," he slipped his arms around her. "Why do you think I'm having a hard time with this."

"I don't know…maybe because you've been set in your ways for so long."

"I know I have. And I got sick of it. Do you know how long I spent wanting to change and not having the courage to do it?" he asked.

Sara met his eyes. In the streams of sunlight filtering through the blinds, she'd never looked more beautiful to him as she did right then.

"Because of you…I've found the courage to do more than I ever thought I could."

"You didn't just change for me, did you?" she asked, cocking her head to the side a little, her lips slightly pouted unintentionally.

"I changed for me and you," he pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply, not wanting to have this discussion anymore. He backed her up to the uncomfortable couch under the window, and gently eased her down to it.

"Wow, you should get demoted more often," Sara murmured when she broke the kiss to take a breath.

Gil laughed softly into her neck in between applying gentle kisses there, "y'know," he said softly, using one finger to gently undo each button on her eggshell blue button down shirt. "Before you…there was a lot of things I'd never done…" he breathed softly on her mouth before taking her lips momentarily for another kiss.

"Sexually?" she asked seeming to get the gist of what he was saying.

"Mmmhmm," he kissed her jaw, "In fact…even talking about it was…severely embarrassing."

"It isn't now?" she asked, running her fingers through his hair.

"At this moment, no," he undid the last button and opened her shirt, he trailed kisses down to her upper chest, fingers deftly working to unbutton and unzip her pants. "Never made love against a wall before…never in the shower before…never without protection…" he trailed kisses down her stomach, tugging her pants down as he went. "Those were things I just never did. Not that I didn't have the chance, and not that I never wanted to either," he tossed her pants aside and moved back up to assault her lips with hard kisses again.

Sara broke the kiss, breathless, "are you going anywhere with this little 'never did' speech?"

"I'm getting there," he kissed the valley between her breasts, kissed the small satin rose in the centre of her lavender bra. "There's only two things I vowed to myself I would never do…for private…and obvious reasons…of which I won't go into right now," he hooked his index fingers in the waistband of her matching panties and slid them down slowly.

"Uh huh?" she watched him discard her underwear with her pants, her eyes were half closed, her lips slightly swollen from his hard kisses.

"One of those two thingsis anal sex," he ran his hands down her satiny thighs, "And the other…" he chewed his lip, sliding his hands under her knees to pull her closer to the edge of the couch, he kissed her naval and began trailing kisses further down. "You'll get the idea."

* * *

Okay, I'll probably get screamed at by some people for ending the chapter there, while others will probably be thankful (Since I know most don't like to read through those sort of scenes, lol.) Still some should be happy that she's moving in with him. :)

Thanks to the people who keep reviewing! Ahhhhhhh 3 chapters to go...lol. Can you believe it? Almost 100 chapters.

Ash


	98. Chapter 98: Flowers and Thank You's

**Chapter 98**

**Flowers and Thank You's**

* * *

****

Gil had worried about how he might sleep again that morning, but when he and Sara finally did slip beneath the sheets, naked and warm, he was asleep before his head had even hit the pillow.

His sleep felt long, and dreamless, and he woke up still slightly sleepy, tangled in the covers, with Sara's head upon his chest, her hair in his face. He smirked a little and kissed her hair affectionately, sliding his arms around her.

"You're finally awake," Sara murmured, she sounded just as tired as he felt.

"Mmm, yeah. Don't think I've slept so good in a while," he confessed.

"Me either," Sara curled closer against him, she had one leg tangled with his, he felt her breast against his ribs. "I always sleep so good after amazing sex."

"Amazing?" he chuckled, "I wouldn't go that far," he stroked her back idly, breathing in the scent of her rosehip shampoo and sighing happily.

"No?" she asked.

"Okay, so it was amazing…" he admitted.

A comfortable silence fell between them, Sara gave a slight yawn, then broke it by speaking, "when can I move my stuff in?"

"Give it another few days," Gil suggested, "I need to find somewhere to shift all the stuff that's now in the living room. We'll need to talk about which furniture you're going to let me keep," he added.

Sara sat up, stretching, "None of it," she teased.

Gil ran his fingers down her bare back, "None of it?"

"You can keep the fridge. It's so much better than mines. Anything else we can throw away. Oh, or better yet, we could switch the furniture from here to my apartment and my brother can have it all."

Gil sat up slowly, "hey…have you told your brother, yet?"

"Not yet. But…uh, I can't see him having a problem with it. He'll have somewhere he can be on his own. It'll be like you said, it'll give him some responsibility. And at least I'll know where I can find him."

"You can't see him having a problem with it? The fact you're moving in with ME might be a problem for him," Gil reminded.

Sara shrugged, "I suppose I'll need to take the good with the bad. Besides, once he gets to know you, he'll be fine…" she lay back and stretched, not ready to really get out of bed yet. She smoothed down the t-shirt she'd worn to bed – another one of Gil's.

"Why is it you wear my clothes more than I do?" he asked, "when we move your stuff here will you still be stealing my t-shirts?" Gil asked casually, he gazed down at her, admiring the vision of her stretched out half beneath the covers, clad in his grey t-shirt.

"Yup," she smirked, "and just so you're prepared, I'll tell you now that I'll probably also be stealing your razors."

"Oh?" Gil lay on his side, propping his elbow on the pillows and pressing his cheek to his closed fist. "So I'll go to shave and be mutilating myself with dull razors."

"Hey, a dull razor is a price to pay for your woman to have smooth legs," she assured.

Gil gave a soft laugh.

"This is the first time in a while we've woke up in a good mood," Sara said after a moment of reflection.

_Just when I'd forgotten,_ he thought darkly. "I know…" he managed, trying to force away the oppressive build up of emotion that threatened to turn his mood sour.

Sara looked at him, seeming to sense she'd said something wrong. As if in an attempt at a silent apology she leaned over and kissed his jaw tenderly, shivering at the feel of the bristles of his beard. "What time is it anyway?" she mumbled, she kissed the sensitive spot just under his left ear.

"Five," he craned his neck to see the alarm clock over her shoulder.

"Three hours 'til we have to be at work," she chuckled, and her breath tickled his neck before she applied a chain of tender kisses from there to his bare shoulder.

"I can count," he teased, "but won't you need those three hours to go home and talk to your brother about moving in with me?"

"Do I have to?" she sighed.

"You'll need to get some clothes from home," he reminded, "unless you plan on living the rest of your days stealing my shirts, and wearing my sweatpants."

Sara sat up slowly, "I just…I'm not looking forward to telling Andrew."

"He has to know," Gil reminded.

"I know."

"Look, I'll go with you…" he offered.

"No…that's okay," she shook her head, "I have to do this myself."

Gil sat up suddenly, "How can you expect me to let you go alone when he shoved you like he did? What if he gets more violent…"

"He won't. Trust me. He's NEVER hit me. He's shoved me, he's pinned me down until I've calmed down and stopped swinging at him, but he's never ever hit me," she assured.

"Sara…" Gil began in concern.

"Trust me, okay?" she asked and smiled, she got on her knees and kissed his forehead affectionately.

He pulled his arms tightly around her and held onto her for several minutes before letting her go so she could get dressed and head off to her apartment. He smiled when she left, and pulled himself up to take a shower, get dressed, and start moving some of his stuff to make room for hers.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

It was strange going to work and not being a supervisor anymore. His old identification card – which had 'supervisor' in bold black writing - had been taken from him that morning and replaced with a senior CSI level 3 identity card. The new photo of him on it was less appealing than the old had been.

He had himself convinced that the new card was lighter than the old one had been, but of course, he knew the only weight that had changed was the weight of burden.

Gil's first instincts upon stepping through the door was to retrieve the assignments for the day, and had to remind himself that he no longer needed to care. That was Catherine's job now.

_Yup. Catherine's responsibility now. I never need to worry about that again. Never need to worry about doing evaluations again, never need to listen to complaints about my employees. No listening to Ecklie whining when my paperwork isn't handed in on time. _

Gil grinned to himself as he walked through the halls at work with a bouquet of flowers dangling from one hand. He was already heading for his old office, mostly out of force of habit, and only slightly in the hope of finding Catherine there.

Just as he'd hoped, Catherine was in her new office, already changing the décor slightly to match her personality. A painting Lindsey had done was pinned up on one of the walls. A few personal knickknacks and trinkets were on the shelves and the desk.

Gil knocked on the door – which was hanging open already – and Catherine turned from where she was standing, pinning up a colourful calendar. "Hey," she said, she flicked her hair away from her face.

"I wanted to give you these," he held up the bouquet to her.

"What's this? A peace offering?" she asked with a smirk, looking at the flowers, but not accepting them just yet.

"Just to show there's no hard feelings that you were picked to take over," he smirked. "To show you that I am fine, and that I congratulate you on your promotion," he stepped in, closing the door behind himself. "And last, but not least, to thank you for everything."

"To thank me?" Catherine sounded dumbfounded.

"These last few months have been tough," he stood holding the flowers out to her, "You've stood by me through everything, even when we were at odds…"

"Any friend would do that," Catherine shrugged.

"And I don't appreciate you enough for it. Congratulations, Catherine, and thank you for everything," Gil handed her the flowers, and for the first time since he'd known her, he leaned over and pressed his lips quickly to her cheek in a friendly kiss, he felt her stiffen, not quite knowing what to do with the contact from him just yet.

She laughed, "you're in a good mood," she mused, she wiped her cheek.

"Sara is moving in with me," he said, unable to contain the excitement in his voice.

"Not alternatively?" Catherine asked.

"Not alternatively, but fully moving in with me, twenty-four-seven, three-hundred-and-sixfty-five. She's even talking about wanting to share the costs of living," he watched Catherine sniff the bouquet.

"Serious," Catherine nodded, impressed.

"The most serious I think my life has ever become," Gil nodded, then his expression saddened for a bit, he fell into his thoughts of how serious things could have been if only she'd chosen to keep on the engagement ring.

_I should be happy. Doesn't matter if she rejected my proposal, because we're still moving forward anyway,_ he told himself. Somehow, it wasn't solace enough.

"Something wrong?"

"Do you think...I'd be good husband material?"

Catherine frowned, not understanding why he was asking, "uh…I don't know. I definitely wouldn't want to be married to you," she teased. "Why you asking?"

"I just…I don't know," he shook his head at himself, "doesn't matter."

"You brought it up. Obviously matters," Catherine placed the bouquet down on the desk for a moment, "Gil…is this about her turning you down?"

"I asked her to marry me twice – in a round about way – and she rejected me. But that was a while back, and I had mostly gotten it out of my mind. But then…yesterday…I caught her trying the ring on…"

"And?"

"She took it off again. Rejection number three."

"You think she's just going to start wearing it suddenly?" Catherine gave a strange laugh. "It doesn't really work that way."

"So…what should I do?" he asked in concern.

"I don't know, do whatever…seems right," Catherine shrugged, "get down on one knee. Ask her properly…and make it as romantic as you can. How could she say no? I mean, god, you asked her on a plane on the way to Vegas, and from what you told me, you blundered it. The second time? What happened the second time?"

"I asked why she wouldn't marry me."

"Jesus, Grissom," Catherine rolled her eyes, "nothing romantic about that."

"Y'know," Gil shoved his hands in his pockets, "Sara doesn't seem like the kind of woman who…wants to be asked in the traditional manner."

"Then find some untraditional way to ask her. Rent a plane and write in the sky or something, just…do something."

"And if she rejects me again?" Gil asked.

"Then…I don't know," Catherine responded, "hey, shift is about to start, the team are all probably in the break room by now. Time for me to hand out assignments."

* * *

Ah, up to 98 already, and btw, 99 is ALREADY finished and coming, lol. So I have1 more chapter to write, and I have to say, I'm kinda sad about it, kinda happy.Hopefully, you all will be too.

Thanks to the following people for reviewing:

csi-ds9, csmit99, Marbs, Sara Bishop, UnspokenLoves, Upright8Infinity, leddy, jtbwriter, silence89, lilegyptiangoddess, Veronica, Casswhole, and Aidrianna.

I'm truly going to miss seeing the regular reviewers on every chapter once I finish this story. Ahhh...brings a tear to the eye, lol.

Ash


	99. Chapter 99: So Much

**Chapter 99**

**So Much**

* * *

****

The shift was hard, and the case Gil was working on with Nick was tough, but the satisfaction of getting back to doing some real work left him leaving rather peaceful and serene. After processing much of the evidence for the case they were working on, he and Nick made their way to the break room for lunch, to find the rest of the team there already – sans Catherine, who was probably lunching in her office while dealing with much of the paperwork Gil was glad to avoid.

"Hey," Greg said cheerfully as Gil and Nick entered, "How're you enjoying your first day as Catherine's lackey."

"Surprisingly good," Gil grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge and stood against the wall, he glanced over to Sara who glanced up at him and smiled gently before going back to doing the crossword in the daily newspaper. Then he stiffened, "hey, are you doing my crossword?"

"You're not the boss anymore, I'm not scared of you," Sara grinned, "besides, I'm only filling in the answers I know you won't get."

"Oh?" Gil asked, "such as?"

"Jennifer Aniston's character in 'Friends'," Sara raised an eyebrow, she tapped her pen absently on the table.

"Uh…" Gil trailed off, "uhm…"

"Yeah, exactly," with a smug expression, Sara filled in more of the crossword without waiting for Gil to respond again.

Gil sipped his coffee, "So…you steal my t-shirts, you claimed my side of the bed. You've got your eyes on my razors, and now you're confiscating my crosswords. Is anything sacred anymore?" he teased.

"Whoah, sounds like a minor domestic dispute starting," Nick joked, taking his lunch out of the fridge, "you two sound like a new married couple."

Sara and Gil glanced at each other, Sara looked slightly nervous and Gil couldn't help but let his thoughts fall back on the engagement ring again.

"Not quite," Gil managed, sipping his coffee again.

"Oh?" Nick asked, "No wedding bells on the horizon?"

_Ouch. There's no way I can actually escape thinking about this, is there? Doesn't matter what I do, it always seems to come up whether I want it to or not. _

Sara was silent for a moment, she looked away from everyone, pretending to be preoccupied with the crossword, "We're moving in together," Sara admitted in an absent way as she twirled the pen between her fingers.

"What about your apartment?" Warrick asked casually.

"My brother is going to be taking over my apartment," Sara explained, she lightened up a little and straightened her posture, "I'll move my furniture into Gil's, and some of Gil's old furniture can be donated to Andrew."

"She's confiscating your furniture too?" Warrick asked of Gil, "man, she has you whipped," he teased.

"It'll be her home too, she has some say in what happens," Gil smirked. Truthfully he didn't mind so much about the furniture. It was all just material possessions that honestly didn't mean all that much. Losing it would be a small price to pay for having Sara with him for the rest of his life.

"I never thought I'd see the day," Warrick shook his head and smirked.

"Wanna take a walk?" Gil asked of Sara, he took a sip of his coffee – which tasted particularly foul today – and then poured it down the sink.

Sara shrugged and got to her feet, she led the way out of the break room, and Gil followed her.

"You spoke to Andrew, then?" Gil asked, once they were out of earshot of everyone they knew.

Sara nodded, walking down the halls at his side, "Yeah. He was…uh…"

"Pissed?" Gil asked.

"You could say that. But…I told him there was nothing he could do to stop me. I'm a grown woman, I can make my own decisions, and I'm moving on with my life."

"What'd he say?"

"He said you'd ditch me," Sara rolled her eyes, "but…he kinda loosened up about the whole idea once I told him you were demoted. Said he's glad that at least you can't fire me after you're finished with me."

"His saying stuff like that is what makes me want to rip his arms off and beat him to death with them," Gil sighed.

"Look, he'll get over it. And if he doesn't, who cares?"

"Sara, we're moving in together, your brother will PROBABLY come around to what's now 'our house', and we'll need to be civil…"

"He can be civil if you can," Sara teased.

"And if we have a kid…?" he asked. He knew the question seemed incredibly premature, but he couldn't help it.

Sara stared at him, "uh…" her cheeks paled a little. Obviously the idea of children was a little unsettling for her at the moment.

"I know, I'm jumping the gun here. I'm just saying 'what if'. If we do, is he going to hate the kid because it happens to have my DNA?" Gil asked.

"No, of course not…" Sara shook her head, "but…lets not get ahead of ourselves, okay? Lets just…focus on getting my stuff moved in, getting the house redecorated…" she suggested.

"Okay," he nodded.

Sara shoved her hands in her pockets, walking along side him at a lazy pace until they ended up outside. The night air was refreshing, cool, and slightly damp. "If you want to keep your furniture, you can," she suddenly said.

"I want rid of it. I want your stuff in my house. Sorry, OUR house."

Sara chewed her lip, "I've never really lived with a guy. I lived with my brother, but…never a boyfriend."

_Boyfriend? _He thought, somewhat hurt. _Surely I'm more than that by now. Damn it, we need to talk about this and we need to talk about this now…before I go crazy, before I lose my mind. _

"After all this time, I'm still just your boyfriend, huh?" he asked softly, he tried to hide the sadness in his voice, but it was no use trying to hide anything from her. She always seemed to see through him these days.

"Gil, lets not get into that again," Sara sighed, she didn't seem as saddened by the situation as he did. This seemed to just hurt even more.

"Sara…" he took a hold of her arm as they walked together, "me and you both know that this is so much more than just a girlfriend and boyfriend relationship," he began, "I know how far I want to see this go. I want to see this go as far as it possibly can. Further than I ever thought I'd ever want to go with any woman. I can't get it out of my head, I can't stop thinking about it…"

"I'm sorry…" Sara kept her eyes on the ground as she walked, she stepped over the cracks in the paving.

"Just…don't say sorry," he turned her to him, "just…say that you love me…" he swallowed, "and that you want to ma—" he was about to add in the words 'marry me', but Sara interrupted before he even had the chance to finish.

"I do love you," Sara said forcefully, she stared at him as if in disbelief. "I love you so much I've changed my whole life for you," she reminded, "I love you so much that…" she trailed off as she took her hands out of her pockets and reached into the inside pocket of her jacket and pulled out a card, handing it to him.

Gil started at the card, it was a business card for a psychiatrist. "You're seeing a psychiatrist…" he finished for her.

"I called and scheduled an appointment," she answered, "I'll be going tomorrow afternoon at three," she explained. "And I'm going to go to AA meetings on my nights off. It means that we won't be hanging out together much on my nights off, but I figure you won't mind…" she looked at him. "I know it's going to be hard. I won't expect everything to miraculously get better over night because I know it doesn't quite work like that," she said all this very quickly without taking a breath, "but…I think this time…I'll be able to do it."

"Sara…" he said softly, his breath taken away.

"You have to be here, though, Gil. You can't get all distant. You can't get cut up about stupid little things, and if I fall off the wagon…"

"If you fall off the wagon…I'll pick you up and put you right back on again," he said, the words catching in his throat with emotion. "But…" he took in a breath, "when you fall off the wagon, you have to tell me. Even if you think I'll be disappointed or mad…you have to tell me."

"I will, baby, I will," Sara promised. "God, how can you not see how much I love you? I'd do all that out of love…and if I had to, I would give up my job, and everything I own, I'd even sell my soul to Satan for you…I love you that much…" she swallowed, her eyes welling up with tears that threatened to spill. "So…please…don't question my love for you anymore. Because even when you can't always see it, there's no way you could ever measure just how much I really do love you…how much I've always loved you…and how much I always will."

"I…" he found it impossible to find anything to respond with. Her words cut him deep. A love that physically hurt as well as charged him, "God, Sara…"

"Let's forget about it, okay?" she asked. She took a moment to force back the tears and somehow pulled herself together miraculously, "I'm moving in with you. We're starting fresh. Everything is going to be fine. I'm getting the help I need – the help I promised you I'd get. Everything is eventually going to get better, Gil."

He pulled her to him and hugged her fiercely, "I'm sorry I questioned your love," he whispered near her ear.

Sara's arms wrapped around him, "it's okay, baby. It's okay. Just…stop worrying," she pleaded. "Remember…what worries you masters you."

"God, I know," he sighed, "I wish it were that easy. I'm sick of worrying. But…I can't help it."

"I know," Sara moved back, she patted his cheek affectionately, "but you're going to have to try. Otherwise you'll drive me crazy and I'm going to have to rip your arms off and beat you to death with them," she used his line and smirked.

"In that case…I'm definitely going to have to get my worrying in check."

"Lets go back inside," she smiled.

He slung his arm around her shoulders as they walked into the building and along the halls with the people they worked with. For the first time, Gil wasn't worrying about who saw them or who would find out about their relationship.

* * *

So here we are 99. You know what that means, don't you?

"Finding Me" is nearly over. Thanks to those btw, who checked out the story I'm co-writing with Wishing on the Moon under the penname "sunrays and moonbeams". It means alot to me :)

Thanks to the reviewers who've kept my spirits high during the writing of this story, and big hi to the YTDAW people (you know who you are!) for recommending "Finding Me" :)

Ash


	100. Chapter 100: The First

**Chapter 100**

**The First**

* * *

****

"Hey, Cath, have you seen Sara?" Gil asked. It was less than two hours later, and Gil had been searching for Sara for the better part of ten minutes regarding the case she was working on. It seemed the case she was working solo was related to the case he was working on.

Catherine was seated behind her desk wearing a pair of black rimmed glasses he'd never seen her wear before. She looked professional, and stern, and he almost laughed at the image.

Catherine glanced up from the pile of reports in front of her, "she didn't tell you she was going home?"

"Uh, no…" Gil stepped all the way into the office and up to the desk, "should she have?" he asked.

"She wasn't feeling well," Catherine shrugged, "I figured she'd tell you before she left."

"I wasn't here, I just got back from a crime scene," he made a face, "What's wrong with her? Did she say?"

"Stomachache. Probably a touch of food poisoning from the Deli's mayo on her sandwich," Catherine pondered, "I ate a sandwich from there with mayo on it, I was sick for days. Nick got the same way. I don't know why she insists on eating out of there. She says it's clean, but…I don't know, I think they ignore expiration dates on their products."

Gil sucked in a breath, "right…"

"Didn't you try to reach her by phone?"

"Yeah, got no reply," he answered.

"Maybe the battery is dead…"

"Yeah…" Gil looked away, feel a strange twisting feeling in his stomach. Something wasn't right. Something felt off.

"Something wrong?" Catherine asked, she slipped her glasses off and folded the legs, placing them down on the desk in a rather prim manner.

"I just…I don't get why she wouldn't have sent a message to me or…called me…or something to tell me she was going home…"

Catherine shrugged, "Maybe she didn't want to worry you. It probably isn't that serious. In fact, it probably isn't food poisoning, it was probably cramps."

"She'd have told you if it was cramps, wouldn't she?" Gil asked.

"I don't know. Are you looking for her because of the case?" Catherine tried to maintain a business like manner.

"Yeah…I think our cases are related…" he couldn't explain that strange nagging feeling that kept pulling him. He tried to force it out of his mind, but it was incredibly strong.

"You want to go to her, don't you?" Catherine sighed.

"But I can't. I have two more hours," he looked at Catherine sternly, "I'm not the boss anymore, remember? I can't take off whenever I like."

"Never stopped you before," she reminded him of years before he'd ever been a supervisor. He would frequently take off when the mood suited him – usually it was always case related, but still…

"Cath…"

"Just go…I'll make up some excuse," Catherine sighed, "you did enough of it for me through the years."

"Cath…I…thanks," he forced a smile, and then took off.

oooooooooooooooooo

It was all he could do to maintain some control and not drive like a madman on the run. Nerves were building up in his stomach, and as he parked his car outside his house, he had to brace himself for several moments, fighting a strange nausea.

_God, I'm overreacting. She'd probably suffering from cramp and I raced here like a lunatic thinking something is wrong, _he thought angrily with himself. He fished his house key from his pocket, his hand was shaking as he tried to slide the key into the lock.

_Stop it, stop it, stop it,_ he told himself sternly. He thrust the key in and twisted, the door swung open. He stepped in, still holding his keys. The door swung closed at his back, and gave a gentle click.

He swallowed as he made his way down the hallway, "Sara?" he asked softly. The hall was filled with a gentle orange glow that was emanating from the living room. The air felt warm around him, beginning to dry the trickle of sweat that had been beading its way down his left temple.

Gil stepped into the living room, and the keys dropped from his hand, he was dully aware of the soft chink they made as they hit the floor. There were candles everywhere, tall candles, short candles, three wicked candles, tiny tea-lights lining the shelves, pillar candles clustered on the kitchen counter, on the coffee table. The whole room was bathed in a warm wonderful glow.

The room seemed unfamiliar to him, and yet more like home than he'd ever experienced before.

His eyes caught the glint of tinted blue champagne glasses on the kitchen counter near the candles, and a bottle of unopened champagne was nearby in a cooler, beads of condensation trickling down the black glass.

_What the…_

"Surprised?" came Sara's voice at his back, and he realized she'd been standing near the wall behind him.

He turned to look at her. Surprised didn't seem to fit really. Sara was wearing the same black dress she'd worn on their first official date. He let his eyes drink her in, from the burgundy painted lips to the black leather heels she was wearing.

"I…I don't quite…understand," he said, "Catherine said you were ill."

"Yeah…I told her to tell you that," Sara admitted, she smirked and moved over to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his lips gently.

Gil drowned in her for a moment, kissing her back softly. The anxiety he'd felt in the car was almost already forgotten. "So Catherine knew…" he breathed when he ended the kiss, he stroked her hair away from her face.

"Yeah," Sara smirked, "I got away an hour ago…it took so much work trying to get all this ready before you got here…"

"I bet…" he looked around, "all these candles, the champagne…" he gestured around the room, "And you wearing that dress…it's all…incredible. But…why?" he asked.

"Well…" Sara paused for a moment, as if to think, "I figured, since…you've never really had a relationship before, that…no one would have really done anything romantic for you before…"

Gil laughed a little, nervous and excitable and the butterflies in his stomach returned for the first time in a while. "That's…true, no one really has…" he admitted, "but you didn't have to go to all this trouble…I mean these candles must have cost a fortune…and the champagne…"

"I felt it was warranted," Sara smiled, "we're celebrating, after all."

"Celebrating…?"

"My moving in," she reminded.

"In fact…" Sara gained an indecisive expression for a moment, "there's more to this than just that…" she admitted finally.

"There is?" he asked.

"I have something I want to ask you."

"Oh?"

"I know it's going to confuse you…" Sara took both his hands, "so…I'm gonna have to ask that…you don't try to make sense of it…at least not yet," she squeezed his hands.

"Okay."

"No…don't say okay, you have to promise me," Sara looked at him seriously.

"I…promise…" he replied, unsure of what he was promising, really.

"Okay," Sara took a deep breath, "here, sit down," she gestured to one of the stools at the kitchen counter.

He did as he was told, the nerves beginning to return.

"I've always loved you," Sara began, "since…god, since the moment I saw you at the seminar back so long ago, seems like a whole life time ago. And I always knew right then I wanted to spend my life with you even though I hardly knew you..." she chewed her lip. "And I always had this…this night…pictured out in my head…ever since then. Don't ask why, but it just felt like this is how things were meant to be. Because you're not the conventional kind of guy…and lets face it, I'm not really the conventional kind of girl," she gave a laugh, and he could see she was nervous.

Her hands, that were holding onto his, were slightly shaking and he held them tighter, trying to steady them. He kept his eyes on hers the whole time, mesmerized by her and her words.

"I've always been the first one to make any kind of advance in this relationship. I was the first to ask you out…I was the first to tell you I love you…" she lowered herself onto one knee, laughing nervously, "And even though it seems…really…really weird, and like I said, so unconventional…I wanted to be the first to say…" she bit her lip for a moment, "will you marry me."

Everything seemed to go incredibly dark for a moment. He was sure he might be dreaming, or hallucinating. And his mind went into overdrive with the question of why now, why when she'd turned him down?

"Sorry…" Gil shook his head, trying to pull himself out of the cloud of thoughts, "Uh…come again?"

Sara looked at him expectantly, she didn't reply.

"Did…you just ask ME to marry YOU?" he asked.

"I know it's supposed to be the other way around," Sara smirked.

"Yeah…kind of…" he said nervously. "Wow…I've…uh…I've never been proposed to before…"

"I have," Sara reminded, "And…uh, sorry, no disrespect but I think I do it better than you."

"Yeah…you do," he nodded, still shaken by the question, so shaken, he hadn't even realized he had not yet given her his answer.

"So?" Sara asked.

"So…?" he took in a deep breath.

"Will you marry me, Gil. Will you make me – God forbid I should say it – Mrs. Gil Grissom…and have kids with me and…god…just be with me the rest of my life…"

"Have kids…?" he asked, remembering her previous reaction to the mention of children earlier that night.

"I stopped taking the pill this morning."

"Don't you think you should…uh…have discussed that with me before you—wait, what am I saying…" he shook his head, feeling incredibly idiotic right at that moment. She had him in a strange daze he couldn't quite pull himself out of. He realized he was being unromantic and unresponsive, but he couldn't quite help it. "Are you…I mean…you're serious…you want to marry me?"

"Would I be asking if I wasn't?" Sara pointed out.

"I…God, Sara, do you even have to ask…?" he stood and pulled her to his feet, "this has been all that's been on my mind for weeks…these last few days have been killing me…" he murmured.

Sara nodded, "me too. I've felt so guilty, because I knew I was going to propose when the right time came…and…well…suddenly I just…felt like it was time."

Gil felt tears building up in his eyes, "god, I feel so stupid…" he wiped them away, "after my hounding you about the proposal…after all I've done, after my questioning how you feel…"

"Only proves you love me, baby."

Gil left her standing in the living room and headed towards the bedroom to retrieve the ring from the drawer he'd been keeping it in. He grabbed the ring box and headed towards the living room. Sara stood looking thoroughly perplexed. With shaking hands he opened the ring box, nearly dropped the ring, but got a good hold of it. He tossed the box away without a care of where it landed.

"So…" Sara watched him, he heard her breath catching in her throat, "what's it going to be? Are you going to marry me?"

Gil took her hand and slipped the diamond ring onto her ring finger, raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, "why ask questions you already know the answers to."

* * *

**_The End_**

* * *

Oh...

My...

GOD.

Yes, I made it to 100 and I did it without having a heartattack in the process, lol.

I'm so incredibly tired and drained but I finally finished it, and it's only taken, what, 3-4 months. I'm sorry to say that (despite popular request by pm, email and review) I won't be doing a sequel, lol. I'll be concentrating on doing other fanfics and i'll be posting them here of course (or if anything else is co-written under Sunrays and Moonbeams). I'll be keeping myself busy :)

A huge thanks to everyone who's ever reviewed so kindly for this story. I wish I could name everyone who reviewed from chapter 1 to chapter 99 but there are so many that it might take me all morning and it's already nearly 6am, lol. There are too many people to thank individually, but you all know who you are and what an inspiration you've all been to me.

Well,I've been up all night working on these last three chapters. I may sleep for days relieved to be done with "Finding Me". On to other things. Love you all.

Ash


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